


Now I'm Learning What is True

by poor_guys_headisspinning



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Blood, Flashbacks, M/M, Mild Gore, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Pining, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Thunderstorms, Violence, but you're blind to the truth jackcrutchie is a gift from god, fair warning jack is probably OOC, he's usually so tactile and in this he's touch averse so, i know you prefer javid, i'm not nearly done boy this is gonna be s l o w, idk please humor me and read this, jack is Messed Up folks, jack is my poor boy, probably, specs is an angel i would die for him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-11-06 07:16:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11031291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poor_guys_headisspinning/pseuds/poor_guys_headisspinning
Summary: Jack heard sirens, and his blood ran cold. They'd noticed his escape. They were coming for him. He shrunk further into the alley, thinking maybe he could hide in the shadows. He kept his back on the wall, slowly sliding back without taking his eyes off of the entrance. Then he bumped into something. He jumped, not expecting anything behind him. This was it, the end of his life. A policeman had caught him, and he would surely be killed as soon as he got back to the Refuge. He tried to run, to get away, but a pair of strong hands gripped his arm. He flinched.Or, a fic where Jack Kelly cannot handle physical touch.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imnotweirdjustwriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imnotweirdjustwriting/gifts).



> my great pal imnotweirdjustwriting has been giving me validation since day 1 of me writing this, so she deserves this dedication and please read all of her stuff it's amazing

Jack hated being touched. After spending eight years of his life in and out of the Refuge, he'd come to believe that the only thing he was good for was being a punching bag. He was constantly locked up in the basement away from the other kids, with Snyder being his only connection to the rest of the world. This meant a lifetime of abuse. Whenever he was with the other boys, he wasn't quite sure how to be nice to them, and he shied away from any physical contact, so he was the scapegoat of the bunch. Anything went wrong? Blame Jack Kelly, Snyder seemed to like beating on him.

When he was fifteen, he escaped. He was in the basement, the door to his cell was slightly open due to a recent beating, and Snyder was checking to make sure none of the other boys in the Refuge were being too loud and obnoxious. He knew he had maybe two minutes before Snyder came back, but this might be his only opportunity to get out. He was collapsed on the ground, barely conscious, so Snyder hadn't thought it necessary to lock the basement door either.

Jack slowly pushed himself up, wincing and groaning as his body protested the movement. He wasn't quite sure his legs would work, so he crawled to the door. He knew he would have to walk up the stairs, though. He used the railing as support while he mustered all the strength he could to  _ stand up, god just stand so you can leave _ . By some miracle, his legs cooperated. He clung to the railing on the wall like a life preserver, and climbed the staircase as quickly and quietly as he could. When he reached the landing, he flinched at the sudden bright light. He looked down at himself, and saw cracked and bruised hands, with blood dripping down onto his clothes, probably from his nose. He shook his head, bringing himself back to the current issue. Escaping. He could see the front door, but what if it was locked? What if Snyder or some other snitch kid came down and saw him trying to leave? He was dead if he got caught.

Clearly someone was on his side; Jack made it to the door without being stopped. It was locked, but he noticed the deadbolt and hurried to undo it. The door swung open, and Jack almost cried at how clean and fresh the air was. Nothing like the stale air that smelled like blood and tears down in the basement. He stood there for a moment, just breathing. Then he heard a creak that meant someone was heading down the stairs to the main floor, and he snapped out of it. Jack stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him. Limping slightly, he ran down the street, not stopping until he thought he would pass out. The Refuge was out of sight, so he ducked into an alley to catch his breath.

In the sunlight, Jack could see his countless injuries much more clearly. He'd only had his undershirt in there, so his bare arms displayed welts and burn marks and bruises and gashes and scars from the last eight years of his life. He didn't need a mirror to know his face was swollen and bloody and generally a mess. His left leg hurt pretty bad, but he didn't think it was broken? It had certainly been broken in the past, and this didn't feel the same.

Jack heard sirens, and his blood ran cold. They'd noticed his escape. They were coming for him. He shrunk further into the alley, thinking maybe he could hide in the shadows. He kept his back on the wall, slowly sliding back without taking his eyes off of the entrance. Then he bumped into something. He jumped, not expecting anything behind him. This was it, the end of his life. A policeman had caught him, and he would surely be killed as soon as he got back to the Refuge. He tried to run, to get away, but a pair of strong hands gripped his arm. He flinched.

"Woah, kid, hey. You okay? You look pretty busted up," a voice said. Jack looked up at the face of the boy holding him, on the verge of panic. It wasn't a cop, but there was no guarantee this wasn't a kid from the Refuge sent to find him. "I- I'm sorry I didn't mean to I- please don't hurt me," he whispered, shrinking away instinctively from the violent response he was expecting.

The boy saw the fear on Jack's face, saw how real it was, and immediately let go of his arms. "Hey, kid, I ain't gonna hurt ya. Don't run, okay? I'm guessing you just got outta the Refuge, yeah? And these sirens, they's for you? I'm Specs, I've been in there before. I'll protect you, ya hear? You're safe now."

Jack didn't fully trust this boy, Specs, but going with him seemed like a better option than waiting to be found, so he nodded slowly and followed Specs out of the alley. He stayed as close as he could without touching him, and they walked for what seemed like ages until they arrived at a multistory building with the words "NEWSBOY LODGING HOUSE" on the front. Newsboy? He'd considered selling papers before, but nothing had ever come out of his musings.

"Hey kid, what's your name? I gotta know so I can introduce you to the boys," Specs said, stopping on the steps.

"I, uh, Jack. I'm Jack," he stammered. He was hit with a wave of anxiety. What if these kids didn't like him? They probably wouldn't. He'd spent his entire life being loathed and mistreated, so why should that change now?

"Jack. That's a nice name." Specs smiled, and put a friendly hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack, not used to soft touches, flinched and stepped away from Specs. Specs noticed this reaction, and apologized. "Hey, Jack, I'm sorry, yeah? I'm guessin' you're not real big on touch, I get that. The Refuge really messes ya up, so I'll warn the guys, okay?"

"That's- that would be nice. Thank you," Jack said, squashing his slowly rising panic as he attempted a smile. It didn't work.

Specs opened the door, walking in first to give Jack a moment to adjust to the crowded and lively atmosphere. The newsies all shouted a greeting at Specs, glad he was back. Once they saw Jack behind him, though, they fell silent. Noticing the stares, Specs took control of the situation and said, "Hey guys! This here's Jack, I found him earlier today. He just escaped from the Refuge, so he ain't real excited to be grabbed at, ya know? Just be friendly, give him some space, and if any of you hurt him, I'll make sure ya won't be able to sell no papes tomorrow."

Satisfied with this explanation, the newsies went back to their individual activities. A couple of them came up to Jack and introduced themselves. Racetrack, but just call him Race. Romeo, Elmer, Mush, Kid Blink, and some others that Jack forgot the names of as soon as they were said. Romeo held out a hand for Jack to shake, but Jack backed away, staring at it like it was a gun.

When Jack had clearly had enough socialization for the day, Specs led him into a room with bunk beds lining the walls. "This is where you'll be sleepin' now, okay Jack?" Specs explained. "You're gonna be bunking with another guy, but you'll like him. You're on top, are you able to climb up there? Your arms and legs look pretty bad."

With all the adrenaline of running away and meeting new people, Jack had forgotten about his injuries. When Specs mentioned them, however, it was as if someone flipped a switch and turned on pain. He winced, realizing how sore he was. He nodded, determined to avoid being touched. Specs looked doubtful, but accepted the answer and pointed to a bed in the corner before leaving.

Jack sighed, glad to finally be alone. He limped over to the bed, then stopped as he noticed a pair of eyes watching him. It was the kid he was bunking with. There was no malice in the eyes, just curiosity. Jack looked him up and down, and couldn't believe how beautiful the boy was. He had sandy blond hair, messy from being under a hat all day. The eyes were a bluish green. He was skinny, but seemed to be well-muscled. Jack's gaze fell to his feet. His right one was twisted at an odd angle. Then he noticed the crutch leaning against the wall. Jack looked back up again, and saw the boy open his mouth to speak.

"Hey! You the new kid I heard Specs shouting about? I'm Crutchie. Nice to meet ya." He offered a small smile. Jack was confused. Why was this boy being nice to him? He hadn't been threatened by Specs to be nice; he had no reason to be smiling at Jack, so why was he?

"What do you want?" Jack asked warily. Crutchie must want something, why else would he be talking to him? Strangely, Crutchie looked confused at the question.

"What do I want? Nothin'. I mean, I guess I want ta know your name? I don't think that's what you're asking, though. I don't want anythin' from you, I promise. I'm just tryin' to be friendly."

"I don't- I don't understand?" Jack was perplexed. Why was Crutchie being so... so  _ gentle _ ? Jack was used to rough hands and harsh words. He didn't believe Crutchie. He started backing away.

"Aw, hell. Kid, are you alright? I didn't mean to scare ya," Crutchie said, reaching for his crutch and moving towards Jack.

Jack's back hit the wall. He was trapped. Crutchie was still advancing, now closing the distance because Jack had nowhere to go. There was nothing left to do except make himself as small as possible and wait for the first hit. Jack's knees gave out and he moved his hands to protect his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, please don't- I'm sorry."

Crutchie stopped. Was this kid okay? He caught a glimpse of the eyes, and his heart broke. He was terrified. Crutchie knew what fear looked like, but he had never seen it so intensely before.

Just then, Specs poked his head in to check on Jack. He saw Jack cowering in a corner, and saw Crutchie moving away from him. "Crutchie! What did you do?" Specs asked as he hurried into the room. Crutchie looked up at him.

"I don't know! I was just askin' his name and then he started backing away from me so i wanted to see if he was alright? But he fell and he looks so scared and I don't know what's wrong." Crutchie sounded troubled.

"Crutch, Jack's a Refuge kid. I found him escapin' earlier. He kept flinching when I would try to grab his hand to show him the way. He probably thinks you were gonna hit him." They both look over at Jack, now shaking in the corner.

"Hell, Specs! I didn't know, I'm sorry. I shoulda realized, this is my fault. Is there somethin' I can do to help?"

Specs considered for a moment, then said, "Sorry, but I think you should probably leave. The Refuge messed him up real bad by the look of it, and he don't trust anyone. It's nothin' personal, just I think he needs a familiar face right now. I'll let ya know when he calms down, okay?"

Crutchie was disappointed, but unsurprised. He really wanted to help, especially since he was the idiot that started this in the first place, but he knew Specs was right. This boy - Jack, Crutchie thinks he remembered Specs saying - needed to be near people he trusted, and Crutchie was clearly not one of them. Looking over his shoulder, he left the room.

Jack was crying. He was shaking. He couldn't think straight; his mind was a constant stream of  _ I'm sorry _ and  _ I didn't mean to _ and  _ please _ . He was alternating between hyperventilating and being unable to breathe. The hit hadn't happened, nothing had happened. His ears weren't working properly, but he thought he heard voices. Probably someone else had come in and wanted to assist Crutchie in breaking Jack's bones. The anticipation was killing Jack. He wished they would just punch him and kick him and get it over with.

He looked up and noticed Crutchie wasn't there anymore. He also noticed a noise near his left ear. A voice. Specs?

"Jack. Can you hear me? It's Specs, I ain't gonna hurt you, okay? You're safe, I promise. Crutchie didn't mean to scare you, he just didn't know." Jack looked up and met his eyes. They were wide and full of concern. His hands were outstretched, but they were still, and it didn't look like he was about to hit Jack. Jack rested his chin on his arms, still shaking and crying but trying his best to calm down.

"I'm- I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to-"

Specs shushed him. "It's okay, Jack. You've had a rough life, kid, I'd expect you to be a little rattled by someone comin' at ya like that. But I promise you, no one in this place is gonna hurt you."

Jack nodded, not fully believing Specs, but grateful that he was at least being kind. Specs seemed to be genuinely nice, and Jack honestly didn't know how to react to it. The tears had finally subsided, and Jack just wanted to close his eyes and  _ go _ . He didn't know where, but he needed to be alone. He started to stand up, cringing because his leg wanted to reject the weight he put on it. Specs reached out to steady him, stopping right before he made contact as he remembered not to touch Jack.

"Are you sure you can get up there on your own?" Specs asked. "I don't want you to fall or anythin'." There it was again. The concern in his voice. He was being nice and offering to help Jack when Jack had done nothing but inconvenienced him since they'd met. Jack nodded stubbornly and forced his legs to move. He reached the base of the ladder, looking back at Specs before beginning his climb up.

When he was safely in the bed, Specs nodded and walked out of the room to give Jack some privacy. Before he left, he added, "Goodnight, Jack. Try to get some sleep, right? You look like ya need it."

Jack nodded once more, and then Specs was gone. As soon as he was alone, Jack realized just how exhausted he was. He fell back onto the bed, his head hitting an actual pillow for the first time in weeks. This was easily the most comfortable place he'd ever slept. His eyes closed almost immediately. Pulling the thin blanket over himself, Jack Kelly fell asleep, safe at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the idea for this when I was watching a boot of OBC and I saw that Jack flinches pretty hard when the Delanceys grab him during bottom line reprise. I thought about it more, and thought what if Jack was the opposite of his usual tactile self and physically couldn't handle touch? I meant for this to be maybe 1-2k tops but it quickly spiraled into this mess.  
> I'm currently over 8k deep in this fic, and let me tell you, Jack is nowhere NEAR kissing anyone yet. That'll happen eventually, but he's real messed up from the Refuge so he has to learn to be ok with touch. that's basically what this fic is?  
> all the relationships I tagged this with will show up! it's just hard being gay in the late 1800s so they can't be open and can't tell jack yet! don't worry sprace will show up and Jack may or may not walk in on them making out ;)  
> (listen I didn't mean for specs to be such an angel but I would literally die for him he's so sweet)  
> please tell me what you think in the comments! I'm getting close to finishing chapter 3 and i need validation to keep writing! this is my longest fic ever so far and I realy hop people like it? also it's currently 1:47 am and I'm exhausted so please tell me if there are any errors!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Specs is a mother and makes sure Jack is clean and fed. Crutchie and Jack have a talk. (sorry I'm bad at summaries)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2 yay! sorry if this chapter is a bit boring? idk it's just over 3k words and there's not much action in it but I hope you still like it

Specs had a problem. He needed to wake Jack up to tell him that he would be alone for most of the day while the newsies were selling papers. He didn't know how to wake Jack up without touching him or raising his voice. If he had to pick one, he knew touching was out. Shaking Jack awake was a recipe for disaster. There was no telling how the poor kid might react first thing in the morning. So he braced himself for any possible screaming or crying, and started saying Jack's name.

Jack stirred when he heard his name. He was too tired to comprehend what was happening. Why was Snyder talking to him? He usually just hit Jack when he wanted him to wake up. Fearing a beating if he didn't immediately do what Snyder wanted, Jack shot up and looked around, feeling mildly panicked. When he found Specs instead, he rubbed his eyes blearily to make sure it wasn't a dream.

It wasn't. He'd really escaped. Jack let out a sigh of relief, and turned to face Specs.

"Oh, thank god. I was worried you'd freak out a lot worse when I woke you up," he said, sounding relieved. "How are ya today, kid?"

Jack thought about it. How was he? He was in a hell of a lot of pain, but he was free. "I'm alright, I guess," he replied, wincing as his voice cracked horribly.

Specs smiled. "That's good! I just wanted to tell you that me and the rest of the guys are headin' out now to sell papes, so you're gonna be alone for a bit, that okay? You can go back to sleep when we're gone, but I didn't want you to wake up and freak out 'cause everyone's left."

"I- that's, that's really nice of ya, thanks," Jack mumbled, looking down because he didn't really know what else to do. No one had ever considered him like that before. He knew he would have absolutely freaked out if he'd woken up alone with no explanation. Specs had gone out of his way to avoid that.

"Well Jack, I guess I'll see ya when I get back," Specs said, straightening the cap on his head. "Food's in the kitchen, shouldn't be too hard to find. Bathroom is straight across the hall, and don't sweat it if the toilet doesn't flush. It breaks at least twice a week an' Skittery's the only one who can fix it. If ya need anything else, there's usually a newsie selling near here, so just poke your head outside and ask. These boys are great, any of 'em will help out if ya ask. Any questions?"

Tired mind still trying to process all this information, Jack nodded slowly. Specs grinned again, and patted Jack on the knee.

Jack flinched, hard.

The touch had been gentle, but Jack wasn't used to gentle. To Jack, touch was rough and painful, so his body had adapted to avoid it.

"Shit! God, Jack, I'm so sorry." Specs was apologizing profusely. "I didn't mean to, I forgot, I- god, I'm sorry."

Jack felt tears welling up in his eyes. Specs was just trying to be friendly, and he'd gone and ruined it, just like he ruined everything else. Why was he so _weak_? He shook his head, trying to convey without words that he was fine.

Specs looked at him, unsure, but then Race yelled out that everyone else had already left. He gave Jack a reassuring smile, then left.

Jack fell back onto his pillow and cried. He didn't deserve the patience Specs was giving him. He didn't deserve anything. Jack cried until his body stopped producing tears. He kept his face buried and exhaled shakily. He was still so tired. He closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him again.

Jack dreamed. He was back in the Refuge, Snyder was punishing him for trying to escape. Why did he ever think he could escape? He was tied to a pipe at the back of the cage so he couldn't leave. Each moment that passed by was a flash of pain. He thought he had cried out at the beginning, but he didn't remember. He couldn't think. Hands closed around his windpipe. He couldn't breathe. This was it. The end. There was no way he would survive.

A door banging open woke Jack with a start. His hands flew to his throat, he still couldn't _breathe_ but there was nothing there. He inhaled shakily and tried to slow his pulse. He could feel it racing under his fingers. He was so weak. He couldn't even _sleep_ without freaking out.

Specs walked in, smiling and calling out a greeting to Jack. Jack quickly dropped his hands, trying to act like nothing had happened. Because nothing had. It was just a dream. Specs didn't need to be worried about something dumb like that.

"Did ya sleep all day, kid?" Specs asked, eyeing Jack's bedraggled hair. Jack looked out the window, ducking his head in embarrassment when he realized the sun was going down. "'S alright, Jack. Your body probably needed the rest to start healin' all them bruises you got."

Once again, the mention of his injuries made them start aching and throbbing. Jack winced and grabbed his left leg. It really did hurt. Maybe it was sprained? He ran a hand through his hair but it got stuck in the matted tangles. Specs noticed this and finally saw how filthy Jack really was.

"Oh! You're probably gonna want a bath, yeah? Get all the blood and dirt off of ya. Come on down, I'll help ya get clean before everyone else is back." He stood back to allow Jack to climb down on his own. He led Jack to the bathroom, waving at a couple of boys as they walked.

Jack eyed the tub as Specs filled it with water. He really did want to be clean, and he was sure his injuries would prevent him from cleaning himself adequately, but having Specs help him meant having Specs touch him. That couldn't happen. He would just have to refuse help.

When the tub was finally full, Specs turned to Jack and said, "alright Jack, it's ready for ya. I'll warn you now, the water's cold so it's not gonna be pleasant. I'm guessin' you don't really want me to be helpin' ya get clean 'cause then I'd have to touch you, so I'll just make sure you're all good and keep ya company. That sound okay?"

Jack nodded, smiling a bit. Specs was so considerate. He actually remembered that Jack couldn't do touch, and he'd offered to keep him company.

Specs looked at Jack expectantly, and Jack realized he would have to take off his clothes. Shit. Seeing his arms and face was bad enough, but Jack's chest was an absolute nightmare. Not to mention his ribs were sticking out from years of malnutrition. His face started burning with shame and he looked down.

Specs saw Jack's reluctance, and promptly turned around to give the kid some privacy. Of course the kid would be self-conscious about his bruises and scars. Who wouldn't?

"You can turn around now," Jack called out in a soft voice. He was almost fully submerged in the icy water. It felt like heaven on his stinging cuts. He leaned forward to clean his face, gasping slightly when he put too much pressure on the bruises.

"So, Jack," Specs started. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," Jack answered as he wet his hair.

Specs almost choked. "You're fifteen?! I thought you were eleven!"

"What? Do I really look that young?"

"Yeah! You're so scrawny and little, I thought you were years younger than me!" Specs looked bewildered.

Jack, mildly embarrassed at being called scrawny, looked at Specs. "Oh yeah? And how old are you?"

Specs looked to the side. "I'm eighteen."

Race yelled from the hallway, "You're sixteen!"

"Nearly seventeen!"

Jack laughed. Specs was bright red. "Whatever," Specs muttered. "Point is, I can't believe you're only a year younger than me."

They continued to make small talk while Jack cleaned himself. By the end of his bath, the water was a murky dark brown color from all the blood and dirt in his hair. Specs turned around again, letting Jack drain the water and cover himself with a towel. When he faced Jack again, he stopped breathing for a moment. Jack's exposed chest looked like a battlefield. There were bruises of every color imaginable littering his skin. There were scabs and scars and burn marks and his ribs, oh, God, his _ribs_ were sticking out. What kind of hell had this poor kid been through? Specs knew he was staring, and knew Jack was probably feeling ashamed of his body because of it, so he shook his head to snap out of it.

Jack moved to put his old clothes back on, but Specs stopped him. "Those are filthy, Jack, don't put them back on. We can find you some clothes to borrow. Crutchie looks about your size, let's go ask him."

Crutchie. That was the name of the kid who came at him last night. Jack really didn't want to talk to him ever again, but Specs was there this time to protect him.

"Can- can you have him come in here? I don't want anyone else to- to see me." Jack's voice was pathetically small. Specs understood why he was asking, so he nodded and went to go grab Crutchie.

He returned a minute later, Crutchie in tow. "So, Crutchie, Jack here has something to ask you, if ya don't mind."

Crutchie looked confused, but nodded and looked expectantly at Jack. God, no wonder the kid was afraid of him last night. He looked like a human punching bag.

Jack refused to meet Crutchie's eyes. "I, uh, my- my clothes are ripped and dirty and I? I was wondering if- if you wouldn't mind maybe, uh, giv-giving me some to wear?" Jack stammered out. Why was he so pathetic? He couldn't even _talk_ without messing up. When Crutchie didn't immediately respond, Jack looked up in a panic. Why had Specs made him talk? He must have known that Crutchie didn't like Jack, right? "I mean- it's- it's okay if you don't want to? You totally don't have to it's fine really I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked I just-"

Crutchie cut him off. "Of course you can borrow some of my clothes, Jack," he replied gently. "I actually have an old shirt I think would look really nice on you. Specs? Be a pal and grab the blue shirt and some pants? I really don't want to hafta walk there and back again."

Specs grinned. "Sure thing, Crutch!" He walked through the door and down the hall, searching for the clothes Crutchie had requested. It took thirty seconds and Crutchie clearing his throat awkwardly for Jack to realize what Specs leaving meant.

He and Crutchie were alone.

Jack immediately looked away, covering his exposed body with his arms. The less of his pathetic form Crutchie could see, the better.

Crutchie shifted, trying to think of something to say. "I, uh, listen, Jack," he started. "I'm really sorry I scared ya last night. I didn't know that you were a Refuge kid, I shouldn't have come at you like that. Can we maybe just start over?"

Jack reluctantly looked at him, and disbelief mixed with fear was plain on his face. "I- are you- do you mean that?"

Crutchie let out a small laugh. "Of course I mean it! You seem like a really nice kid, and I'd like to be your friend, if that's okay."

Jack searched Crutchie's face for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, he offered up a small smile of his own. "I'd um, I'd like that."

Crutchie beamed. He started to move forward to shake Jack's hand, maybe, or maybe give him a quick hug, but stopped as soon as he saw Jack step back instinctively.

"Sorry, sorry! I forgot, I'll try to remember for next time, I swear I'll do my best to remember so I don't make you freak out."

Jack wanted to cry. Another person was taking him into consideration? He didn't want to believe it; he _couldn't_ believe it. He nodded and was saved the trouble of thinking of a reply by Specs, who returned, clothes in hand.

"Here you are, Jack!" he said, handing the bundle over. Jack unfolded the blue shirt, looking at it appraisingly. It seemed like it would fit. Along with the shirt, there was a pair of grey pants and a dark vest. Jack knew he would look ridiculous in this outfit, but at least it was clean. He looked over at Specs and smiled, trying to indicate that he was fine. "Thanks, for the, ya know, clothes," he said to Crutchie. Crutchie nodded, and he and Specs left the bathroom to give Jack some privacy.

He pulled on his old striped undershirt. It wasn't exactly clean, but he needed one and this was all he had. He unfolded the pants, which were light grey with darker vertical stripes on them, grimacing as they looked far too big. The waistband was indeed too loose, but there were suspenders, so he was still fine. He put his arms through the sleeves of the shirt. It was bright blue with a faint diamond pattern on it. He buttoned it up and tucked the bottom into the pants before pulling the suspenders over his shoulders. The last piece of his outfit was the vest. It was a darker grey than his pants, with slightly uneven vertical lines running across it, and he noted that the shade looked nice with his shirt. He put it on and looked in the cracked mirror.

He looked like a child.

He now knew exactly why Specs had thought he was eleven. He was swimming in extra fabric and he just looked _wrong_ in these clothes, like a little kid playing dress up. His face burned with embarrassment. How could he make it look less ridiculous? If he unbuttoned a couple of buttons, maybe? He did so, spreading the collar out so a bit of his undershirt was visible at the corner. He also undid the top and bottom buttons of his vest. That felt more natural, and was probably as good as he was going to get, so he sighed and turned away from his reflection.

Tossing his filthy old pants over his shoulder, Jack walked out into the hall. The water had soothed his cuts and bruises and left him feeling refreshed. Well, almost. His leg still hurt like hell as he limped back to his bed. He was stopped by Specs halfway.

"Hey, Jack, you think you're up to learnin' how to sell tomorrow? It's okay if not, but I'm thinkin' if ya want to stay here you're gonna hafta start makin' a bit of money so's you can pay the fee. It's not much to stay here, and the fellas and me are happy to keep payin' for ya for a couple of weeks, but eventually you're gonna need to be able to sell papes on your own. So do ya want to learn tomorrow? Or would ya rather stay and sleep? Either is totally fine, so it's up to you."

Jack stared at Specs. It cost money to stay here? And other people were paying for him? Guilt bubbled up inside him and threatened to overflow. He needed to start being self sufficient as soon as possible so Specs would stop wasting money on him. He wasn't worth it.

"I'll- I'll learn tomorrow. I'm fine now, I'm not so hurt anymore, so I can go with you tomorrow." If Specs noticed the slightly desperate tone in Jack's voice when he responded, he was kind enough to not ask about it. He simply said, "Okay, Jack," and had Jack follow him to the kitchen to get dinner.

Dinner was a dry roll and an apple with a glass of water. It was more than Jack had eaten at once in weeks. He ate slowly, savoring it. He was also a bit worried that his stomach would reject this much food, so he was trying to ease it into the idea of food once more. It seemed to be working; he finished the meal and barely felt nauseated.

They headed back to the bunking room. Jack was, inexplicably, tired again. He had slept for the better part of the last 24 hours, but his entire body felt exhausted. He couldn't wait to sleep. When they got into the room, all the other newsies were there. They all greeted Specs, and some were kind enough to wave at Jack and offer a "Hey, kid, how is you?" He smiled shyly at these greetings and mumbled a "fine."

"Alright, Jack, I know you just had a sleeping marathon, but we's up early tomorrow to sell, so try and get some rest, okay?" Specs said, leaving Jack at his bunk and moving towards his own.

Jack nodded and began the climb up. He made eye contact with Crutchie and looked away, blushing. Crutchie smiled gently and whispered, "Goodnight, Jack." Jack tried to smile back while hiding his burning cheeks, but he was sure Crutchie noticed. He hauled himself onto the bed and hid his face under the covers. Why was he _blushing_ ? Crutchie had just looked at him. It wasn't anything special or extravagant, just eye contact. He pushed the thought out of his mind and began to settle into sleep. He took off the vest and shirt, leaving only his undershirt and the pants on for sleeping. He tried his best to fold the discarded clothing so it wouldn't wrinkle, but failed. He sighed and draped them over the side railing, hoping that they would stay there through the night and not fall to the floor. If he had a nightmare, chances were he'd knock them off. He just hoped he wouldn't have a nightmare. _Idiot_ , Jack thought to himself. _Don't think about nightmares or you'll have one_. He shook his head, trying to convince himself that he would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -did anyone catch the sixteen going on seventeen reference? that video (and the ass grab at the end holy moly) is my reason to live please watch it if you haven't AKB is a saint  
> -can you guess who's been watching newsies live a lot?? (hint: I wrote 350 words just describing jack's outfit because I can see all the details in HD)  
> -I would still die for specs every time he speaks I love him more  
> -I'm trying to update once a week on sundays, so look forward to that I guess  
> -I'm still not touch averse so if any parts of Jack's reactions are inaccurate please let me know!  
> -and please, leave me comments! I'm currently one full chapter ahead (plus part of a bonus chapter B) you'll see what that's about in a couple of weeks) but I need constant validation to write!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack sells for the first time, Specs and Romeo talk to a guy, and Romeo makes a mistake (the mistake being touching Jack.)  
> (This is rlly vague sorry I promise the chapter is good)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy sunday! (not) I hope you enjoy this chapter, I think it's pretty good? Some quality moments of Jack bonding with people are included.

"Jack!" Jack woke up with a start. Where was he? He sat up and looked around. Right. The lodging house.  _ Not _ the Refuge. Specs was staring at him strangely. "It's time to get up, Jack. Papes don't sell themselves, and we's gotta get to the gates early if we wanna get a good sellin' spot."

Jack nodded and put his new shirt on. He purposely left the top two buttons undone, remembering that it looked better that way. He climbed down to the floor before putting his vest on. He looked down, satisfied with his appearance, and ran a hand through his hair as he walked into the main room where Specs was waiting.

"Lookin' good, kid!" Jack looked around to see who was talking to him and saw Race. He smiled softly, not quite sure what to do with this compliment. He followed Specs out the door and to newsies square, a short walk from the lodging house.

Until the headline came out, there wasn't much to do besides sit around and talk, so that's what they did. Specs tried asking about Jack's past, but Jack's panicked look stopped that conversation before it happened. Specs talked about himself instead, and Jack learned that he was sixteen and had been a newsie since he was twelve, longer than everyone else there. His best friend was Romeo, and he blushed a bit and lit up when he talked about him. Jack wished he could have a relationship like that. Specs was also closest with Race and Crutchie, who had been around for almost as long as he had. Race was a bit of a gambler, and went to Sheepshead in Brooklyn often, so he was subsequently close to Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn newsies. Crutchie was a bit more of a loner, choosing to sell alone. He'd taken quite a liking to Jack, though, Specs said. Jack looked at him in disbelief. As if. But Specs insisted. Crutchie was nice to everyone, sure, but he'd never been so interested in a new newsie before. Jack shook his head, unwilling to believe Specs. Specs could see he was getting nowhere, so he dropped the subject.

Finally, newsies square was full of teenage boys all waiting for the headline, and the circulation bell rang. A man climed a ladder to the chalkboard where the headline was written, and everyone watched as he wrote, in large clear letters, WIFE SLAIN WITH BABE IN HER ARMS. A large cheer erupted from the newsies.

"See that, Jack?" Specs asked, laughing. "That, my friend, is a great headline! I reckon just about anyone could sell a pape with that good of a headline. Let's go get in line, I'll explain the sellin' process while I get my papes."

Jack followed Specs dutifully, listening as Specs explained how best to hawk the headline and make folks want to buy from him. "There's lots of trick, see? Younger sells more papes, and so does sick. You've got the young thing down just try and look young as possible, okay? And if anyone asks, say you're eleven. Plus, with all them bruises, I betcha could get a ton of mothers to pity you and buy papes. Basically, you've gotta exploit your weaknesses. If the headline is bad, you can lie a bit to make it more interestin', that's fine. But today there's a murder, so people'll want to buy it just on account a that." Jack stared at Specs, frantically trying to process all this information.

"I think I get it? That all makes sense," he said, going over his new knowledge.

"That's great! If you have any questions, just ask me. I'll probably sell for most of the day, but I'll have you try it out a couple times of that's okay with you? I wanna see if you got potential. Oh, and one more thing."

"What?"

Specs pulled a cap out of his pocket and handed it to Jack. It was grey; darker than his pants but a bit lighter than his vest. It had a faint chevron pattern and seemed to be made of wool. Jack put it on and looked at Specs for approval. Specs smiled and nodded, clearly pleased with the end result.

"The cap is kind of a signature newsie thing, plus they keep the sun outta your face on real hot or sunny days," Specs explained. "I was thinkin' this one would look nice on ya, and I was right. You look great, Jack! Just like a real newsie."

Jack blushed and looked down. Someone had complimented him again, and he was uncomfortable. He really didn't deserve to be told he looked nice; it was pretty clear he didn't. Specs cleared his throat. "Well, Jack, it's time to go. My spot is near Central Park, so it's a long walk, but I sell on the way. Ready to go?"

Jack looked back up, met Specs's eyes, muttered a quick "yeah," and then they were off.

Specs had bought 60 papes, allowing for Jack to try selling ten while he sold his usual 50. He sold half of them while they were walking. Their pace was a bit slow; Jack's leg was still hurting and it was making walking quickly difficult. Specs didn't seem to mind, though, and Jack was grateful for that. Jack watched Specs intently while he sold, noting how he yelled out the headline and singled out passersby to ask if they wanted to buy a paper. Very few people that he asked personally actually said no, so Jack made a mental note to try that. Specs also faked a cough a few times to invoke pity in folks. Once, he even asked a woman to buy a pape "so's I can feed my little brother here, ma'am," gesturing to Jack. That woman had taken one look at Jack's tiny frame and bruised face and pressed a dime into spec's hand when she took her paper. Specs grinned. Having Jack around was good for business.

When they arrived at Central Park, Specs handed a small stack of papers to Jack and said, "go get 'em, kid." He had high hopes for Jack. He could tell Jack would be a natural. He watched from a nearby tree as Jack tried to sell. He broke into a smile; he had been right. This kid was gifted. Within fifteen minutes he'd sold all ten papers. He hurried back over to Specs, grinning as he showed off the money he now had. Specs wanted so badly to hug Jack, or even just high five him. But he couldn't. He settled for a thumbs up. "Good job, Jack! I knew you would be great at this! Do you want to sell some more, or do you wanna relax for the rest of the day while I sell these last 20?"

Jack looked at Specs, hopeful. “Can I sell some more?”

Specs chuckled. He was glad to see that Jack was excited to sell. “Sure, take half. I’m gonna be wanderin’ around a bit while I’m sellin, so just come find me when you’re done, okay? And if you see anyone from the Refuge, get far away from them and hide, and try and get to me. We gotta make sure you aren't locked in there ever again, yeah?” Jack’s eyes widened at Specs’s mention of the Refuge, and he nodded fervently at what Specs was saying. He did  _ not _ want to go back there, ever. He took half of Specs’s remaining papes and went off to sell them.

He really was a natural. He yelled out the headline, sometimes faking a cough for sympathy, sometimes actually stumbling and falling while he walked around. His face burned with shame the first time he fell, but he’d quickly realized that people were more likely to buy from him if they pitied him. He figured he looked pretty pitiful.

It was now past the time that most people were taking their lunch breaks, so business was slightly slower. There were less businessmen out and about, so Jack had to rely on mothers taking their children outside to play in the park. In a way, this was better. Mothers were much more inclined to help out a small injured boy than middle aged men. So Jack had no trouble selling all ten of his papers in just under an hour. He counted his money carefully, making sure he did it right. After double and triple checking, he had 25 cents. That was enough to last him over a week at the lodging house. Well, it was enough if he didn’t pay for his own papers tomorrow, which he fully intended on doing.

Jack looked around, spotting Specs across the park and next to a fountain. He ran over, eager to tell Specs, who he was quickly coming to see as an older brother, about his success. “Specs, look! I sold all the papes you gave me!” He looked so proud of himself. Specs couldn’t stop himself from laughing. Jack’s joy was infectious, and he looked so cute that Specs had to grab his own hand to refrain from tousling Jack’s hair.

“That’s great, Jack! I have two more, and then we can head back, that good? Just sit outta the way so’s no one sees ya that we don't want to, and I’ll come get ya when I’m done.”

Jack nodded happily and sat down in the shade of a nearby oak tree.

He didn't have much else to do, so he counted his money again and again, still not believing he had this much. His smile faltered when he remembered that Specs had paid for half of his papes, so Specs deserved half of the money. He couldn't steal from Specs, so he set aside ten cents and kept counting. After another moment, he set aside the three cents it would take to stay in the lodging house. That left Jack with twelve cents. Enough to buy 24 papers tomorrow. Judging by how well today had gone, he could easily sell 24. Jack's smile became brighter again. He was already able to pay for himself. Specs could stop wasting money on him now.

As if on cue, Specs appeared. "Heya, Jack! Whatcha doin'?" He asked, looking curiously down at the pennies Jack was holding in his hands.

"Just, uh, just counting this money," Jack replied, feeling awkward. He stood up and pressed Specs's money into his hand. "This is the money from the ones you were plannin' to sell but gave me. I can't take it since it's yours." He looked down, refusing to meet Specs's eyes.

Specs made a small noise of disagreement. “I couldn’t do that! You’re the one who sold the papes, you’re the one who made the money, you’re the one who deserves to keep it. Nope,” he added, seeing Jack begin to open his mouth to protest. “You’re keeping the money, and you can’t do anything to change my mind.” He held out his hand, waiting for Jack to give in and let Specs drop the money back into his hand. After a moment of internal conflict ( _ I can’t take money from him, he deserves it and I don't- but he told me I have to take it- but I can’t- but he really wants me to take it _ ), Jack sighed and opened his hand to take the money back.

“Thank you,” he said, trying to show his gratitude towards Specs.

Specs smiled. “No problem. Now how's about we head back home?”

“I- yeah, that sounds good.”

Specs turned and headed back down to Lower Manhattan, Jack close behind. They held a conversation as they walked. Specs asked about Jack’s day, and Jack responded quickly, launching into a detailed story of each paper he sold. Specs was impressed; Jack was one hell of a storyteller. Specs found himself clinging onto Jack’s every word, even though he hadn’t been far away for most of it.

“-And then, I was walking over a bit, but my ankle sort of gave out on me? Like it hurt before so that’s probably why, but I wasn’t expecting it to, so I sort of stumbled a bit. And this lady saw me trip, and asked if I was okay and gave me a nickel for a pape! A whole nickel! I couldn’t believe it; I had to just stare at it for a minute.”

Specs was grinning the entire time Jack was telling his tale. He seemed to be paused, so Specs took his opportunity to interject. “That’s so cool, Jack! I’m proud of ya that ya managed to make so much money on your first day. So, since it’s only mid afternoon, the fellas and me usually head over to a deli to hang out until it’s supper time, an’ I was thinkin’ we’d head there now and see who else shows up. That cool?” Jack nodded, a little dumbfounded that he was being included.

They walked a little ways further, Jack continuing his story. When they arrived, Jack fell silent. Over the last two days, he had become very comfortable with talking to Specs, but he still didn’t know any of the other newsies well enough to not be nervous at the thought of talking to them.

Specs sensed his anxiety and gave Jack a reassuring smile before pushing the door open.

Jack recognized Romeo and Crutchie, but that was it. There were five he didn’t know the names of, two of which he didn’t even remember meeting. He looked up at Specs and whispered, “What are their names? I don’t remember anyone but Romeo and Crutchie.”

“That there’s Kid Blink and Mush,” he started, pointing at two boys sitting shoulder to shoulder. One of them - Jack was assuming he was Kid Blink - had an eyepatch on. The other one, Mush, had light brown hair and nice eyes. They seemed to be very close. Jack wondered how they could stand to touch each other like that. He supposed it was because he was broken. Before he could go down that track of self loathing, Specs continued pointing out newsies. “That’s Finch, Elmer, and Buttons.” Finch was holding a slingshot, though he didn’t seem to have any ammo. Elmer was short, with curly brown hair and deep brown eyes. He looked kind. Buttons was tall with light brown, almost dirty blond hair. He was pretty scrawny; even his face was slim and pointed. They all waved, and Jack waved back. He was feeling slightly overwhelmed.

“Well, Jack, if ya don’t mind, me and Romeo hafta go and uh, talk to a guy outside. Will ya be fine here without me?” Specs asked, ignoring the sniggers and smirks from the other newsies. Jack nodded, thinking maybe Crutchie wouldn’t mind talking to him while Specs and Romeo were… busy.

“Yeah, Specs, make sure you an’ Romeo don’t stay out too late, gotta make sure you can still ‘talk’ tonight in bed,” Mush called out. Romeo turned bright red, but Specs merely grinned. 

Jack moved to sit next to Crutchie. "Do you mind if I sit by you?"

Crutchie was overjoyed. Jack had gone from being terrified of him to asking to sit with him so quickly. "Sure, Jack! Come on over, I'd love the company." Jack smiled, glad to not be alone. He sat next to Crutchie and accepted the glass of water offered to him.

They sat and talked for what seemed like hours, but in reality was more like thirty minutes until Specs and Romeo stumbled back in with slightly swollen lips and barely visible bruises at the place where their collars ended. Jack wondered how they were so obvious about it. They could get arrested or even killed if the wrong person saw them. But their return was met only with whistles and claps, and Jack knew they were safe with the newsies. Specs smirked in response, dragged Romeo behind him as he made his way over to Jack and Crutchie, and plopped down backwards in a chair.

Jack smiled slyly at Specs and asked, "Did you have fun 'talking?'"

Specs was stunned for a moment. Jack was teasing him. Jack felt comfortable enough in front of him and Crutchie to poke fun at Specs's blatant lie. Specs knew pointing it out would make Jack self-conscious, so he kept the thought to himself and laughed.

"Yeah, I think we both did," he said, gazing adoringly at Romeo. He stopped after a second, realizing that Jack might not be cool with them dating. "You don't mind, do ya? I mean, I'm not about to stop kissin' him just cause you don't approve, but if it makes you uncomfortable we can try to tone it down a little around you?"

Jack smiled and shook his head. "I'm fine with it, I honestly think you two work well together. And I'm guessing I don't need to say how dangerous it is, I reckon you already know?"

Specs and Romeo broke out into identical grins and laced their fingers together. "Yeah, we know. And thanks for bein' understanding about this."

Romeo nodded in agreement, and then everything went wrong.

He patted Jack on the shoulder. The movement was too fast for anyone to stop him; Jack was the first one to react. He visibly recoiled at the touch, sucking in a sharp breath and closing his eyes as he shrunk down as small as possible. His hands flew up to protect his face. The reaction was so primal, so instinctual, and Specs felt tears spring into his eyes. Jack started sobbing silently. His whole body was shaking from the force of it.

Specs looked around, silently praying that no newsies from other tables had noticed. He knew that more attention would make the situation worse, so he let out a sigh of relief when the others were occupied. He turned back to Jack. "Jack, are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong," Jack whispered, still shaking, voice muffled by his hands.

"You're fine, Jack. It's okay. Romeo forgot, he wasn't thinking." Specs was doing his best to comfort Jack, but Jack seemed to be far gone into a place where there was only fear. "Jack, look at me."

Jack shook his head, not turning. Another broken sob escaped.

"Jack, please. I want to help you, and I need you to look at me. Can you try to do that?"

Jack shivered, then slowly pulled his hands away from his face. He turned his head to the side, just barely enough to meet Specs's eyes.

Specs tried not to react outwardly to the terror he could see in Jack's now red eyes. He put on a small smile instead. "Thank you, Jack. Now, can you try breathing in and out with me? Nice an' slow so's you don't hyperventilate."

Jack nodded almost imperceptibly, tears still falling rapidly. Specs nodded, and started guiding Jack through some deep breaths. He seemed to be calming down, though he was still hunched over to make himself as small as possible.

Romeo and Crutchie looked at each other. Romeo was holding his hands tightly together, not willing to pull them apart for fear of scaring Jack again. Neither he nor Crutchie said anything or moved to help Specs. He seemed to be handling the situation well, and neither of them wanted to say or do the wrong thing and set Jack off again.

Jack was doing well with this guided breathing, but every so often a sob would escape and he would start breathing faster again. Specs comforted him every time it happened, whispering encouragements to him. Jack was trying so hard to calm down, and Specs was proud of him. He knew just how bad a panic attack could be, so every time a tear didn't fall or a panicked breath didn't force its way out, he smiled at Jack and whispered praises.

Finally, Jack's tears had subsided and he was only shaking a bit. Specs smiled at him, then turned to Romeo and Crutchie. "I'm gonna take him back to the lodge, sorry to cut this short, but I think he's had a long day and needs to sleep." He squeezed Romeo's hand before getting up, encouraging Jack to do the same.

Crutchie stood up too. "Is it alright if I come with? I want ta help if I can."

Specs looked at Jack. "Is that okay?"

Jack nodded slowly, not looking at either of them. Specs motioned for Crutchie to follow, and they headed out of Jacobi's together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I literally went into New York Journal newspaper archives to find a headline from 1897 I'm nothing if not historically accurate  
> -I also used google maps to find out how far of a walk it is from newsies square to central park  
> -once again, Specs is an angel and I would die for him  
> -next chapter is gonna be fun B)  
> -please leave comments and kudos! I have like 3 essays and a ton of other homework to do (it's finals week starting tomorrow please kill me) and I need that sweet Validation to keep going


	4. Bonus - Specs/Romeo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is literally just 1.3k of Specs and Romeo kissing. Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm realizing this is my first time posting a makeout fic on here? God knows it's not the first one I've written, but it's the first one I've finished? Also I've never kissed anyone in my life so sorry if it's a bit inaccurate I did my best please just try to enjoy this bonus chapter

As soon as they left Jacobi's, Specs grabbed Romeo by the arm and pulled him deep into the dark alley so they would be safe. He allowed Romeo to push him against the brick wall and leaned down to let Romeo kiss his lips. It was gentle at first, but quickly turned hard and desperate as they deepened the kiss. Romeo was in charge, but Specs was kissing back just as enthusiastically.

Romeo remembered he was going to ask something and pulled away. Specs made a small noise of protest and chased after Romeo's face with his lips. Romeo laughed, a happy, breathless laugh that Specs would do anything to hear.

"Are you sure Jack is okay in there?" he asked, gasping slightly when Specs started to trail featherlight kisses across his jawline.

" _ I _ wasn't okay in there not kissing you," Specs murmured back, mouthing along Romeo's neck and applying gentle pressure. Romeo bit back a moan, trying to be quiet.

He grabbed Specs by the chin, gently pulling him up so they were facing each other. He whispered, "fair enough," and leaned forward to crash their lips back together. Specs opened his mouth to invite Romeo's tongue to explore. Romeo obliged, allowing their tongues to meet and intertwine.

Specs had always been fairly tactile, craving soft and loving touches after his very brief time in the Refuge. While he had no complaints spending time with Jack, he had to admit he missed holding someone close and just existing together. So he dropped one hand from where it rested on Romeo’s face down to his side and laced his fingers between Romeo’s. He sighed happily. He wanted to just hold his boyfriend’s hand for the rest of eternity, laws be damned.

Romeo, however, had more than just hand holding in mind. He broke off their kiss to pull their intertwined hands in between them. He brought Specs's up to his mouth and pressed his lips to it before dropping their hands again and kissing Specs hungrily. They stayed like that for a while, just kissing and sometimes biting each other's lips and gasping and holding each other.

Then Romeo moved his attention to Specs's neck, nuzzling against it affectionately. Specs tilted his head back to give Romeo better access, and swallowed down a moan when he felt soft lips brushing delicately across the sensitive skin of his neck. Romeo stopped, pulled away just the slightest amount, and breathed out, "can I?"

Specs shivered at the feeling of breath there. He nodded and let out a broken " _ please _ ," and then Romeo's teeth were on his neck, biting and nipping with just enough pressure to leave marks. Specs closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation. His free hand found its way into Romeo's hair and tangled itself in the soft black locks, silently urging him to be slightly rougher. Romeo obliged, biting down harder and eliciting a gasp of pleasure from Specs.

Specs couldn't take another second of not kissing Romeo, so he pulled him up by the hair, a little too rough - not that Romeo was complaining - and their lips collided again. He could feel that their lips were slightly swollen from all the kissing, but he couldn't bring himself to care, not when Romeo was so close and his tongue was in Specs's mouth and he couldn't tell whose breath was whose anymore. He kissed Romeo harder, effectively shutting his brain down because all he could think was  _ Romeo _ .

Romeo broke off the kiss, causing Specs to pout indignantly. He eyed Specs's swollen lips and the rapidly forming bruises along his neckline, and whispered, "How are you planning on hiding this from Jack?"

Specs grinned in response. "Guess this is kinda obvious, huh? Not much we can do now, 'cept for make it even." And with that, he ducked his head down and started biting at Romeo's neck.

Specs had moved too fast for him to anticipate, so Romeo couldn't hide the moan that escaped. He clapped a hand over his mouth and looked at the entrance to the alley, afraid that someone had heard him and would questioningly poke their head down to take a look. He tried to push off of Specs, worried that they would be seen standing unnaturally close, but Specs whispered, "it's fine," against Romeo's warm neck and went back to making marks all over it. Romeo couldn't argue with that. He sighed and wrapped his arms around Specs's shoulders, pulling him closer and encouraging the loving bites.

While Specs worked on his neck, Romeo was trying to decide how to return the favor. It was a little hard to focus, given his current position. An idea popped into his head, and he moved to act upon it before he could forget.

With a little reluctance, he pulled Specs's head away from his neck and back up so their lips could meet. Specs sighed into the kiss. He loved giving Romeo hickeys, a physical way of proving their love, but nothing could compare to just kissing him. He was overjoyed.

Romeo moved the kisses up slightly, and started trailing them across Specs's sharply defined cheekbones. He took his lips off of Specs for just a moment, just barely enough time to look at him and see confusion begin to take shape. Then Romeo leaned forward a bit more and took Specs's earlobe into his mouth. He teased it between his teeth, loving the way Specs gasped and squirmed and whispered his name.

As soon as Romeo's teeth were on his earlobe, Specs felt his knees go weak. If he'd been overjoyed before, now he was over the moon. Romeo knew he was sensitive there; he'd picked the most effective place to completely  _ wreck _ Specs. His knees wobbled slightly as Romeo bit the tiniest bit harder, and he prayed that his body would cooperate long enough to not ruin this moment.

When Romeo pulled his mouth away and placed a gentle kiss on Specs's earlobe, Specs was only barely aware of his knees giving out. He was more aware, however, of the sound of Romeo losing his shit. That snapped him back into reality relatively quickly. He realized he was currently lying flat on his ass with Romeo doubled over laughing right in front of him.

"Did you- did you just-  _ fall _ ?" Romeo gasped out between laughs.

Specs turned bright red. "You know my ears are sensitive!"

Romeo wiped tears out of his eyes. "Oh my god, Specs, don't tell me you got weak in the knees or some sappy shit like that."

Specs groaned and put his head in his hands.

"Jesus Christ, Specs! I didn't think that happened to people!" Romeo had to sit down.

"I hate you," Specs whined through his fingers. "You're the worst boyfriend ever. I can't even kiss you without bein' laughed at!"

Romeo didn't respond; he was laughing too hard. Specs just let him laugh it out, until he started rolling around on the ground. That was when Specs decided he'd had enough ridiculing for the day.

" _ Romeo _ , please stop," he begged. "It ain't even that funny! I'm about ta leave if you don't stop laughin' at me."

Romeo shook his head, still shaking with laughter. "Aw, I'm sorry Specs, it's just I ain't ever seen no one go all weak in the knees before. It's cute. I'm sorry for laughin', really."

Specs sighed and stood up. He held out a hand that Romeo took gratefully. When they were both up, Specs pulled Romeo into a tight embrace and whispered, "You're lucky I like you so much."

Romeo smiled. "I know. We should probably head back in, yeah?"

"Yeah." Specs gave him a lingering kiss, enjoying the feeling one more time before they had to go back to pretending they were just friends. He pulled away and grabbed Romeo's hand. He brought it up to his lips. "I love you, ya know that?"

Romeo blushed slightly and headed back to the front of the alley. They dropped their hands and left, thirty seconds apart so no one would question two boys leaving an alley together. They walked side-by-side back to Jacobi's.

Specs held the door open for Romeo. As he passed Specs, he whispered, "I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I broke 10k words with this chapter and I think that's really significant  
> -did ya like it?? let me know in a comment!  
> -I love Specs/Romeo?? so much? they're a blessing there's not enough quality stuff out there this is my attempt to make more good content  
> -I'm so sorry. next chapter is awful. it physically hurt me to write. please enjoy this until your life is ruined next week


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't really summarize this without spoiling anything so I'll just day this: I'm so sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen,, this is like 4.5k and I stress wrote half of it in one day during finals week  
> I know I said I'm sorry already but sorry doesn't begin to cover how I felt writing this

"Hey, Jack," Specs started.

Jack turned to look at him, slightly uneasy at the tone in his voice. "Yeah, Specs?"

"Well, I been thinkin', ya see, an' I thought maybe we should try to get you more used to touch? How's that sound?"

Jack took a small step back instinctively. "I don't- I don't think that's a good idea."

"Aw, c'mon, Jack. You can't avoid touch forever, an' isn't it better to start getting used to it with someone you can trust?"

Specs had a point. Especially in their job, physical contact would probably be inevitable. So Jack sighed a little, stepped forward again, and said, "Okay, I guess. Where do we start?"

Specs smiled. "That's the spirit! I think we should just start with somethin' simple, like I'll put my hand on your shoulder. And I'll talk to you while I do it, so's you expect it."

Jack nodded, and watched Specs's right hand. Specs started talking, guiding Jack through his movement until his hand was about to touch Jack's shoulder. He paused, and said, "Okay, Jack, I'm about to touch your shoulder. Remember I'm not gonna hurt ya, right?"

Jack resisted the urge to squeeze his eyes shut. He needed to keep them open, or he knew it would be worse. He braced himself, and then Specs’s hand was touching him. He flinched, but Specs didn’t move his hand away, and the touch was gentle. He was still incredibly tense, but Specs wasn’t hurting him, just as he’d promised.

“How’s this?” Specs asked gently. He started moving his hand back and forth very slowly, giving Jack time to get used to the movement.

“It’s- alright?” Jack whispered. “Promise you’re not gonna hurt me?”   


“Yeah, Jack. I promise.”

Jack let out a deep breath. He didn’t know why he was feeling so wary of Specs, but the promise made him relax a bit.

It was fine. Jack was okay. Specs was being gentle. He could do this.

Then Specs tightened his grip.

“S-Specs?” Jack asked. He didn’t think the hold was particularly friendly anymore. “What are you doing?”

“What do ya mean, Jack? I ain’t doin’ nothin’,” Specs replied smoothly. Jack didn’t quite believe him.

“I-I think I’m done for the day, can we stop now?” Jack tried to pull his arm away from Specs, but Specs had a vice grip on it. “Specs, please let go.”

“I don’t think so, Jack.” There was something slightly dangerous in Specs’s voice now. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

“I don’t- what? Specs, what’s happening?” Jack was trying to escape the tight grip, and finally struggled free, only to be grabbed by both his forearms and made to look at Specs. He flinched horribly. He glanced quickly up at Specs's eyes and felt his body go numb. They were hard as steel and full of contempt. What had happened? Just yesterday Specs was laughing and joking with him.

"Wh-what did I do?" he whispered.

"What  _ didn't _ you do, Jack? All you've been since I found you is annoying. Oh, look, Jack's hurt. Look, he's hungry. Look, he has nightmares. What's that? He starts crying when my boyfriend is just tryin' to be nice? Why is it you can't let other people touch you, huh? It's cause you're  _ weak _ , Jack. You can't do anythin' on your own and I'm sick of it!"

Jack felt his body trying to shut down. Everything Specs said was true. He'd stopped struggling to get released and was now just trying to ignore the burning feeling where Specs's hands were on his bare skin, but Specs was holding on so tight and he was having trouble breathing properly.

"I'm s-sorry," he choked out.

"That so? Well, I hate to break it to ya but sorry ain't gonna cut it. Maybe I should try to beat some sense into ya. How's that sound?"

At the word  _ beat _ , Jack instinctively started struggling again. He needed to get  _ away _ . He managed to free his left arm, but Specs just yanked him closer by his right. Specs raised his right arm, pulling the hand into a fist. Jack closed his eyes.

Specs punched Jack, hard. Jack cried out, but Specs slapped him and growled, “ _ shut up _ ,” so Jack closed his mouth and tried to make himself as small as possible. It wasn’t hard; Specs kneed him in the stomach hard enough to knock the breath out of him and make him double over.

Jack was used to punches; they happened almost every day when he was in the Refuge. But this hurt more. He knew that Snyder was a horrible person. He hated Snyder. But this wasn’t Snyder, this was Specs. Specs, whom he’d grown to trust. Admire, even.

Specs, who’d promised never to hurt him.

Specs was hitting him hard enough to draw blood. Jack’s nose was dripping blood and he could taste it in his mouth. He kept his mouth shut, determined not to give Specs any more reasons to be angry. But then Specs twisted his wrist and he heard a distinct  _ crack _ . Pain exploded in his wrist and he couldn’t contain the scream that escaped.

“What’s goin’ on in here?” a voice asked. Jack’s vision was blurry, but he managed to turn his head and see Crutchie in the doorway. He wanted to cry. Crutchie might help him.

“Just teachin’ this brat a lesson,” Specs replied with dangerous calm. As if he wasn’t beating the life out of Jack. He’d stopped hitting Jack temporarily, but he was still keeping a tight grip on Jack’s now broken wrist to make sure he didn’t get away.

“Crutchie,” Jack begged. “P-please, help me.” Specs squeezed Jack’s wrist as way of punishment for talking. Spots danced across Jack’s vision and he threw up from the pain.

“Care to join, Crutchie?” Specs asked, offering up Jack’s shaking form.

“Nah, I prefer to watch.” Crutchie leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and getting comfortable.

“Suit yourself.” Specs shrugged and turned his full attention back to Jack. He hit Jack a couple more times before pausing and turning back to Crutchie. “Hey, you wanna touch him? It’s funny how bad he flinches.”  
  
Crutchie considered for a moment. He nodded and made his way over to them. Jack felt hot tears start to fall from his eyes.

“Please stop,” Jack whispered. He was ignored.

Crutchie reached out a hand to grab Jack’s shoulder. He flinched away before it made contact.

“Aw, c’mon, Jack. That’s not fair. You let Specs touch you, but not me? Where’s the fun in that?”

Specs pulled Jack closer to Crutchie and held him there, making sure he couldn’t avoid the contact. Crutchie reached out again, this time actually touching Jack. The touch was far from gentle, and Jack recoiled with a quiet whimper, making both Specs and Crutchie laugh. Specs let go of Jack’s wrist. Jack collapsed to the ground, his body refusing to hold him up any longer. 

Specs laughed at the pathetic sight of Jack’s trembling body curled up on the ground. He started kicking. When his foot started colliding with Jack’s stomach, Jack coughed and spit up blood. Specs didn’t stop.

Jack was terrified. This was the worst beating he’d ever gotten. All he could think was  _ I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I’m gonna- _

_ I want to die _ .

Specs kicked Jack in the throat, and it took all of Jack’s remaining strength to not pass out as he felt his esophagus close. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t  _ breathe _ , he couldn’t-

He woke up.

He gasped for air, still feeling like his throat was blocked by something. A thin sheet was wrapped around him, tangled from his erratic movements. He clawed it off, hating how much was touching him. It was too hot in the room, too cramped. He needed fresh air. He climbed down as quickly as he could and saw a fire escape at the window. He opened the window and crawled through, careful not to make any noise. He scrambled up the steps until he was on the roof. As soon as the cool night air hit him, he started sobbing. He needed to make sure it was just a dream, that he wasn’t really hurt, but he couldn’t fathom anything touching him, even himself. He noticed his shirt was still on him, and became acutely aware of the sensation of it on his arms. He needed to get it off. He unbuttoned it, practically ripping it off. Tears were streaming down his face and he hated the feeling of them but he couldn’t touch his face to get rid of them.

“Jack? Is that you up there?” a voice called out gently. Jack started. Crutchie’s head came into view, followed by the rest of him. Jack backed away. Crutchie stopped approaching, having learned his lesson from before. He saw Jack, small and shaking and probably crying and trying to get away and trying to act like he was okay.

“Woah, Jack, you okay?” Crutchie asked. Silence. “Sorry, dumb question. Do ya wanna talk about it?”

“Nightmare,” Jack whispered, not looking at Crutchie.

“Ah, I see. Was it about the Refuge?”

Jack shook his head. “I’ve only ever had nightmares about the Refuge before. I usually dream that Snyder’s decided he’s tired of me so he tries to- to kill me.” Jack pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing, “But this was different, an’ that’s what scares me.”

“What did you dream about, Jack?”

“It was- it was Specs,” Jack mumbled, flinching at the memory. “He started off all nice, sayin’ he wanted to help me so’s I was okay with folks touchin’ me. And it was fine at first, he was bein’ real gentle and he promised not to hurt me. But then he- he grabbed me, and said that I’m weak and helpless and annoying. An’ he said maybe he should beat some sense into me, so he did. It was awful, it hurt worse than anythin’ I’ve ever felt, not just cause he was hurtin’ me real bad, but also cause he promised not to hurt me but he did. I was so scared.”

He stopped speaking, but Crutchie could tell that wasn’t the end of his story. “What else happened?” he prompted.

“I don’t- I can’t-” Jack started panicking. What if Crutchie was mad at him for telling the truth? What if he laughed because Jack was so pathetic?

“Jack, you’re fine. You can tell me, I promise I won’t get mad.”

Jack was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke again, his voice was barely audible. “It was you. You came into the room and just stood there and watched. I asked you to help but you ignored me. Then S-Specs asked you if you wanted to touch me because- because it’s f-funny how bad I flinch. And you did. And then Specs started- kicking me. I thought I was gonna die.”

Crutchie was stunned into silence. 

Jack started shaking harder, though he was trying so hard to pretend he wasn’t. Crutchie still couldn’t tell if Jack was crying, but he figured it was likely. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve said that, you probably didn’t want to- god, I’m sorry.” A single broken sob escaped.

“Jack, it’s okay, you’re okay, I swear. Thank you for tellin’ me about your dream, I know it ain’t easy to trust someone enough to do that. I ain’t mad at ya,” Crutchie said gently. “Specs won’t hurt ya, I promise ya that. I know you haven’t known him for that long, but I’ve known him for years, an’ he’s the nicest guy I know. Wouldn’t hurt a fly unless his friends are in danger. An’ you definitely count as a friend. He loves ya, thinks of ya as a little brother even. He would never think of hurtin’ you.”   


“But how can I be sure?” Jack whispered, hating how vulnerable he was being. “He- he promised in the dream but it didn’t mean nothin’ cause he just started hurtin’ me right after. I don’t know what I’m supposed to believe anymore.”   


“Do you trust me? I’m tellin’ ya that Specs will never lay a hand on you unless you ask him to, can you believe me?”   


Jack looked at him through eyes blurred by tears. “But you were there too. You just stood there and let it happen. I don't- I don't know.”   


“Jack, I wouldn’t let that happen. I’ve dealt with my fair share of bullies and scabs before-” he gestured to his bum leg- “so I wouldn’t just sit there while one of my friends was getting hurt. Especially you, Jack. I won’t let anything happen ya, not if I can help it. You don’t deserve to be hurt, Jack.”   


Jack let out a scornful laugh. He didn’t deserve to be hurt? That was the funniest thing he’d heard in a while. Crutchie sighed, clearly upset at Jack for not believing him. But why should he? He’d spent the last eight years of his life being treated like garbage and told he was worthless, all while serving as a human punching bag. He thought he was quite justified in his doubts.

Crutchie dropped it, knowing it would take more than him saying it once to get Jack to believe that he didn’t deserve any of the abuse he’d dealt with. He did know, however, that talking about the meaning of the dream would help Jack move on and not have it again, so he asked, “Jack, do you know why you had this nightmare?”

“I don't want to talk about this.”   


“It’ll help.”

Jack turned away. “Help  _ what _ ?”

Crutchie took a small step forward, hoping to comfort Jack without crowding him. “If you know what triggered the nightmare you can stop it from happenin’ again. Do ya know why you had it?”   


“I don't wanna think about it either.” Jack was still standing with his back facing Crutchie. Crutchie kept moving forward, little by little.

The moon was illuminating Jack’s back, and the soft white glow put an emphasis on every scar and bruise on Jack’s trembling arms.

Crutchie tried again. “Jack, repressin’ it like this won’t help ya. The only way to get over it is to think about it and figure out why you had the nightmare. Can ya please try an’ talk me through-”  
  
“I DON’T KNOW!” Jack screamed, turning around to face Crutchie. “I don’t know, okay?! I got no clue what’s wrong with me or why I’m like this, and thinkin’s only gonna make it worse!”

Crutchie backed away, horrified at the pure pain on Jack’s face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and his eyes were red. Crutchie cursed silently. How had he not realized how upset Jack was? He whispered, “Jack, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to push you this far.”  
  
“What do ya want from me, huh? Why do you care about me so much? I’m worthless! I’m a damn waste of space and I only ever get in the way of people who matter. You’re too good for me, I don't understand why you care! I’m not worth it, Crutchie!” Jack was done trying to hide his tears. His voice shook and cracked, but he was too emotional to care. He sobbed and his whole body convulsed with the force. He was angry, confused, and frightened. Crutchie didn’t say anything.

Jack’s eyes widened in fear. He’d been so angry that he didn’t think about what he said or how he said it, but in the silence he realized just how vulnerable he’d just made himself. Crutchie now knew exactly how to hurt Jack the most, and Jack was in no condition to try to escape. The fire escape was past Crutchie, and he knew he wouldn’t make it without being caught. He couldn’t back up any more or he would touch the railing. He sank to the ground, shrinking down, wishing he could disappear. He closed his eyes, which were burning from his salty tears, and waited for Crutchie to either hit him or decide he didn’t care after all and leave.

Jack started when he heard the sound of someone sitting in front of him. He opened his eyes, and his breathing stopped. Crutchie was sitting right in front of him, hands behind his back to show he wouldn’t hurt Jack.

“What are ya-”  
  
Crutchie shushed him. “Jack, you’re fine. I’m not gonna hurt ya, I swear on my life. Am I too close?”

Jack shook his head.

“Okay. I’m not gonna make you say anythin’ if ya don’t want to. Just listen to me, okay?”

Jack sniffed and nodded, waiting for Crutchie to speak.

“Jack, bein’ vulnerable ain’t a bad thing. It’s okay to let people know you’re hurtin’ sometimes. I know it wasn’t okay when you was in the Refuge, but you’re out now, and no one’s gonna think you’re weak. You went through a lot of shit, an’ I understand that you get nightmare sometimes. It’s to be expected after dealin’ with that hellhole for as long as ya did. But you gotta realize that it’s in the past now, yeah? Specs cares about you a lot, an’ he won’t ever hurt ya. It was just a dream, none of it was true. Specs wouldn’t hurt ya, not in a million years. An’ I care about ya too. I know you don’t believe it, but you’re worth it, at least to me. I swear I won’t ever hurt ya or let anyone else try. I’ll protect ya, okay? You don’t have to get through this alone. I promise I’ll be there for ya whenever you need me.”  
  
Jack had stopped crying during Crutchie’s speech. The tear tracks were starting to dry on his face. He was still shaking, though.

“Th-thank you,” he said softly. “That- that really means a lot.”

Crutchie smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. Are you feelin' better?"

Jack nodded, trying to stop his teeth from chattering. The wind picked up, though, and he couldn't hide the shiver.

Crutchie saw Jack shudder, and realized Jack wasn't shaking from fear anymore as he'd previously assumed. Jack was cold. He'd probably been up on the roof for a long time, and the cool breeze wasn't helping.

"Jesus, Jack! Ya must be freezin'!" he exclaimed. Jack smiled shyly and shivered again. Crutchie saw the blue shirt lying in a ball nearby. "It's cold up here! Why'd ya take off your shirt?"

Jack flinched slightly. "I couldn't- too much was touching me. I needed it to stop, so I took it off."

Crutchie nodded slowly. "Ah, that makes sense. Does that happen a lot?"

"It's not usually that bad. Most of the time it's just people, but sometimes when it's really bad I get like that. I can feel the clothes touchin' me and that's all I can focus on and if there's too much sometimes I feel like I'm suffocatin'," Jack whispered, looking down.

Crutchie's heart broke a little bit. He desperately wanted to reach out and hold Jack close and never let go. This poor boy had been through so much. Crutchie needed to protect him. But touch would ruin Jack, especially after the night he'd just had. So Crutchie ignored the urge, and attempted to comfort Jack with words instead. "Jack, that must be awful, I'm so sorry ya hafta deal with that. Is that why ya came up here?"

"Yeah. It was so hot and cramped in there and I couldn't breathe. I saw there was a fire escape an' I thought maybe some fresh air would help. An' I swear, it's usually not this bad, I'm just bein' dumb." Jack forced a small chuckle, but his voice cracked and Crutchie knew he was still upset about his dream.

"Just cause it's not like this usually doesn't mean you're bein' dumb, Jack. You shouldn't ever have to feel like that."

"Well, I do." Jack's tone was ever so slightly aggressive. Crutchie decided not to press any further.

"Are ya good now? We should probably head back in before you catch a cold. It's okay if ya don't want to sleep, but we should at least go inside."

Jack considered for a moment. He cautiously lifted his right hand up to his face and placed it there gently. His body didn't protest. He moved his hand down to his left arm, letting it rest there to see if he was okay. When nothing happened, he moved his left hand to put it on his other arm. The only thing he noticed was that his arms were freezing. His hands weren't much warmer, but they felt like furnaces on his arms. He rubbed them up and down, smiling when he realized he was now able to touch himself again. That meant he could probably put his shirt back on without issue. He grabbed it from the ground next to him and carefully put his arms through it. It was fine. He left it unbuttoned, partially because he didn't want to push his luck by going to close to his neck, and partially because his fingers were shaking too much to do the tiny buttons anyway.

Crutchie said nothing while Jack slowly went through this process. He understood that Jack needed to take his time in case going too fast made it worse. When Jack started putting his shirt on, Crutchie smiled gently. Jack was clearly better if he was able to put his shirt back on.

"I think I'm okay now? I don't know if I wanna sleep just yet but I think I'm okay to go inside. Thanks for, ya know, waitin' for me. I wanted to make sure I was better."

Crutchie grabbed his crutch and used it to shove himself into a standing position. He started to offer a hand to help Jack up, but shoved it into his pocket when he remembered. Once Jack was upright, Crutchie turned and headed back to the fire escape, looking over his shoulder once to make sure Jack was following.

The trip back down the rickety metal fire escape was slow, and Crutchie was reminded yet again of how much he hated his bum leg. He apologized to Jack a couple of times for holding them up, but Jack just shook his head and replied, "it's fine, don't worry about it," each time. They climbed back through the window and shut it quietly so no one would wake. Jack took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"You good?" Crutchie asked, slightly worried.

Jack wrapped his arms around himself and nodded, opening his eyes to look at Crutchie. "I'm fine. I just-" He cut himself off, not wanting to seem weak again. Crutchie kept looking at him expectantly, though, so Jack thought,  _ whatever. I might as well just say it, I already told him everythin' else. _ He continued. "I just wanted to make sure I could- breathe. I'm okay."

"That's good to hear. So, you said you don't wanna sleep just yet?" Jack shook his head. "That's fine, but would ya be okay with sittin' in my bed with me? I don't want ya to be up there all alone."

"I think that's fine," he whispered. "Just- as long as you're not too close."

"Of course, Jack." Crutchie sat down on his bed and motioned for Jack to do the same. He sat a couple of feet away, but not on the opposite edge like Crutchie had assumed he would. Jack was still shivering, so Crutchie took a blanket and offered it to him. He took it gratefully and put it over his shoulders.

They sat on Crutchie's bed, facing each other, for what seemed like hours. They had a whispered conversation, careful not to disturb anyone else. Crutchie felt his eyelids growing heavy, but he was determined to stay awake with Jack. Eventually, they ended up sitting next to each other with their backs on the wall. Crutchie noticed that they were sitting much closer than they had been originally, but he didn't mention it in case it made Jack uncomfortable.

They reached a comfortable silence. Crutchie sat contentedly, with a smile on his face. He loved talking to Jack, and he was glad they were close enough that the silence wasn't awkward. Jack's breathing was deep and slow. Crutchie barely had time to wonder if Jack had fallen asleep when he heard the noise of something sliding on the wall and felt Jack's head fall gently onto his shoulder.

Jack was definitely asleep. Crutchie froze, scared moving would wake him up. If Jack woke up, he would almost definitely freak out. So Crutchie was stuck.

Inevitable regret aside, this was nice. Jack's cheek was warm on Crutchie's shoulder and his hair tickled Crutchie's neck. Crutchie have himself a moment to enjoy the feeling, knowing he might never get to experience this again. He was so calm and peaceful in his sleep. Crutchie hoped he could one day be that calm all the time.

Jack shifted slightly, and Crutchie reluctantly took the opportunity to move away from Jack. Without Crutchie's shoulder propping Jack's head up, he slid down until it hit the bed with a gentle thud. Jack jerked awake, looking around quickly. When he saw Crutchie, he relaxed.

"Did I fall asleep?" he asked sheepishly. "Sorry."

Crutchie laughed quietly. "It's fine, Jack. I was gettin' tired too. I think it's time you head back up to your bed and try to sleep."

Jack yawned and nodded in agreement. He crawled to the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor. He really didn't want to move, but sleeping in Crutchie's meant touching, so he stood up. As almost an afterthought, he remembered the blanket and tossed it back to Crutchie. He placed his hands on the ladder and forced his tired body to climb up. He collapsed onto the mattress and closed his eyes immediately.

"Hey, Crutchie?" he whispered.

"Yeah?" Crutchie's reply was muffled, probably by a pillow.

"Thanks for lettin' me use your blanket."

"No problem, Jack."

Jack turned over, waiting for sleep to take him back.

"Hey, Jack?"

"Yeah?"

A slight pause. "Thanks for sittin' and talkin' with me. That was real nice."

Jack smiled. "No problem."

Silence fell over the room. Crutchie was sure Jack had fallen asleep, but he wanted to say one more thing.

Jack was on the verge of sleep, just barely conscious, when he heard Crutchie whisper, "Goodnight, Jack. See ya tomorrow."

Jack fell asleep with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -How 'bout that plot twist huh?? it was all a dream~~~  
> -if it makes you feel any better it physically pained me to write Specs hurting Jack  
> -next chapter isn't much better oops  
> -did ya like the soft tender moment of jack falling asleep on crutchie??? I know I did  
> -leave comments!! and kudos! please!!! I love you all and comments literally make my day!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> once again, can't really summarize this without spoiling  
> once again, I'm so sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for self harm? it's kinda graphic so I'm sorry

Specs thought Jack had been getting better. So he definitely didn't expect Jack to sit bolt upright and start backing away at the sound of his voice.   


"Jack? You okay?" he asked, worried.   


Jack forced himself to nod, though he looked far from okay. "I'm fine, just... it's nothin', don't worry."   


"If you say so," Specs said, not believing Jack but also not wanting to push it. "Anyways, it’s time to get up. You comin' today?"   


"I- yeah. Gimme a sec to get down," Jack mumbled. He didn't move from his position against the wall until Specs was out of the room.   


Crutchie, having heard this exchange, stood up and faced Jack. "Jack, you sure you're okay? It was just a dream, remember? Specs ain't gonna hurt ya."   


Jack started climbing down. "I know, it's just... I'm bein' dumb. I'll be fine."   


"It's okay that you're a little scared. That was a pretty awful dream you had," Crutchie said, trying to comfort Jack.   


Jack shivered. He whispered, "Don't remind me."   


"Sorry. What I mean is you're allowed to feel like this. It's fine, you ain't bein' dumb."   


"It sucks. I know there's nothin' to be scared of, but I still am. I hate it."   


"I know ya do, Jack," Crutchie said gently. "And there ain't nothin' I can do to make you stop bein' afraid, 'cept keep remindin' ya that Specs and me care about you. So I'm gonna keep doin' that until ya believe it."   


"Thanks, Crutchie. It means a lot."   
  
"It's nothin', I want you to feel safe. Will ya be able to sell with Specs today?"   


Jack's eyes widened in slight panic. "I don't- I don't know if I can be alone with him? I think that might be a bad idea."   


"That's fine. Would it help if I tagged along?" Crutchie asked.   


"C'mon, you two!" Specs shouted, walking back into the room. "We ain't got all day!" Jack jumped and looked away. He pretended to focus intently on buttoning up his vest and tried to act like his fingers weren't shaking slightly.   


"Jack, are ya sure you're okay? You look pretty rough to me."   


"I'm f-fine," Jack stammered, nodding his head to confirm his okay-ness.   


Specs looked to Crutchie, eyes pleading for him to say what was wrong. Crutchie glanced at Jack, debating whether telling Specs was a bad idea. He decided that a general summary would probably be okay. "He, uh, he had a nightmare last night. Real bad, ya know? He's probably shaken up about it still. I think he just needs some time."   
Jack stood at the foot of his bed, looking at the floor and trying to make himself disappear. It was fine that Crutchie had told Specs what happened, he supposed, but now Specs was  _ looking _ at him and probably thinking about how pathetic he was. He wanted it to stop.   


"A nightmare? Aw, I'm sorry, Jack. I know they suck," Specs reassured. "Any chance you could tell me what it was about?"   


Jack looked up in panic and backed up until he was against the wall. He couldn't tell Specs about his dream. Specs would be pissed if he knew how quickly Jack had ruined their friendship. He looked at Crutchie.    


"I ain't mine to tell, Specs. Sorry," Crutchie said. Jack let out a breath.   


Specs still looked troubled. "Jack? Is it okay if I know? I want ta help, if I can. I swear I won't judge ya for it. I been in the Refuge, god knows I've dreamed about it more 'n enough times. Do ya trust me enough to tell me?"   


Jack was trembling. Specs was being so kind. He deserved to know. Jack just couldn't be the one to tell him. He sat down on Crutchie's bed and sighed. "You can tell him."   


"Okay, Jack. Tell me if you want me to stop." Crutchie turned to Specs. "It was us, Specs. He dreamt that you was sayin' you wanted to get him used to touch, an' he trusted ya, so he said okay, but you started hittin' him. Real hard. An' then I came and you asked me if I wanted to help ya but I said somethin' like I prefer to watch. So you just kept hurtin' him. He told me he thought he was gonna die."   


Specs looked over at Jack, shocked. Jack’s head was buried in his arms and Crutchie knew he was most likely holding back tears. Specs, for one, looked like he was about to cry. “Jack,” he started. “I- you gotta know I would never even think a’ hurtin ya!”   


“I know.” The words were short and muffled. Jack didn't look up.   


“So you can see why he’s a little, uh,  _ jumpy _ , around ya, right?” Crutchie asked, glancing over at Jack.

“Of course I do!” Specs said, nodding. “Shit, Jack, I’m sorry that happened to ya. I didn’t mean to spook ya this mornin’, I’m real sorry.”

“‘S fine,” Jack mumbled into his arms. “I'm just bein’ dumb.”

“Is it alright if I tag along with ya to sell today? Just so’s he ain’t alone with either of us?” Crutchie asked, looking back to Specs. “I mean,” he added. “‘S long as you’re okay with that, Jack?”

Specs and Crutchie turned to see what Jack had to say. He said nothing at first, but with both of them looking at him so gently and encouragingly, he wiped the tears from his face and nodded. “I think that’d be good.”

Specs smiled. “Then it’s all settled! Crutchie, you’ll head with us to Central Park, an’ the three of us’ll sell a pape to everyone who walks in there, right?”

Crutchie gave an enthusiastic nod, and Jack gave a more subdued one while standing up. His face was slightly red and he was sniffing, but other than that there was no evidence of his crying. Once standing, Jack headed out the door ahead of Specs and Crutchie. Crutchie went to follow Jack, but Specs held him back for a moment.

"He- I would never do that, especially not to him," Specs said, looking somewhat desperately at Crutchie. "I know how much the Refuge can mess ya up, an' he's worse than most. I would never betray his trust like that. He knows that, right?"

Crutchie sighed. "He's tryin', Specs. He's gotten a lot better since he first came here. I was surprised he trusted me enough to tell me about this when I found him last night. I told him that we'd never hurt him, and he's trying to believe it. It's just hard for him, is all. We just gotta take it slow and be gentle with him."

"Thanks, Crutchie." Specs smiled and pulled him in for a brief hug.

"Hey, Crutchie, you comi-" Jack froze in the doorway. He didn't know why. It wasn't like he'd walked in on something inappropriate. So why was seeing Specs and Crutchie hugging making him feel so... off? He told himself he just didn't want to interrupt them. He let himself think for a second that maybe he was jealous. They were touching so easily and he was just... screwed up. He couldn't hug either of them. He didn't think he wanted to, not really, especially after his nightmare, but he was hit with the realization that he would probably never be able to hug anyone. It hurt. It made his arms itch. He made an effort to ignore the feeling, knowing what happened when he started scratching. He didn't stop. He'd left permanent marks in countless places on his arms before because of it. He couldn't start now. He shoved down the memories of digging into his arms with his nails until they burned and bled, and tried to think about something else.

Specs and Crutchie stepped away from each other and looked at Jack. "Jack, is everythin' alright?" Specs asked.

Jack blushed and mumbled, "I- sorry. I didn't mean to get in the way of ya. I'll just- I'll meet ya at the gates." He turned around and hurried out of the room.

Specs sighed. "He's tryin'," he said, mostly to himself. He raised his voice slightly to address Crutchie. "Well, we should probably make sure he doesn't get too far ahead. I worry he'll get lost or hurt or somethin'. You ready?"

Crutchie nodded, and they left the lodging house.

It wasn't too hard to catch up to Jack. He was wandering slowly in the direction of the circulation gates, slow enough that they were able to meet him before they arrived. Crutchie went up to Jack carefully, taking care to not startle him, and started a small conversation. It was mostly just Crutchie speculating about the headline, but Jack was feeling much more relaxed by the time they stopped at the closed gate. He even managed to laugh at some of Crutchie's more ridiculous guesses.

They waited at the gate until the real headline was released (SHOT TWICE, THEN CLUBBED HIS WIFE). Various cheers erupted from the newsies, and even Jack's face face broke into a grin. Another good headline.

"Well, Jack? Ready to go sell a million papes?" Crutchie asked. Jack nodded and scratched absently at his arms, not even realizing that he was doing it.

They headed off to Central Park. Specs and Crutchie had each bought 50, and Jack had bought 20. They sold a lot on the way there, in between casual conversations. It was a good day.

When they got to Central Park, they agreed to separate in order to sell to more people. It was a great strategy, except Jack kept finding that he was drifting closer to Crutchie. After the fifth time it happened, and with only 4 papes left to sell, Jack gave up and just stayed by Crutchie. Crutchie smiled and said, "Hey, Jack!" each time. His smile grew wider when he realized Jack was staying by him.

They talked idly, pausing frequently to yell the headline and hand papers to people in exchange for a penny. Once Jack had sold his last paper, he went went to go sit under the shade of the huge oak tree from the day before. He called to Crutchie, "Come join me if ya ever finish sellin'!" and laughed as Crutchie mocked offense. He sat down and counted his money again, needing something to do with his hands. He was doing a lot better than he had been that morning, but there was an undercurrent of worry because the itch still hadn't gone away. He counted slowly, turning each penny over in his hands multiple times before setting it down and picking another up.

He noticed that the constant sounds of New York were getting louder. He knew nothing was actually changing. It was just him, starting to get overwhelmed. He cursed and tried to focus harder on counting and feeling each coin in his hand. It wasn't working. Everything was still getting louder and he wanted it to stop. He needed something to focus on and counting wasn't working. He knew the only thing thing that might work was scratching. He kept counting.

By the time Crutchie sat down next to him, Jack's breaths were shallow and quick. His head was resting on his knees and he was just moving a coin in between his hands, trying to focus on it. Crutchie asked if he was okay. He didn't answer.

"Tell me somethin', Crutchie." His voice was barely above a whisper.

Crutchie paused and looked at him. "What?"

"I don't know. Talk about somethin' you like. Tell me a story. Please."

"Okay Jack. I'll tell ya about my family." Crutchie missed Jack's sharp intake of breath. "They was real nice folks, real nice. They loved me a lot, and that would have been enough, but my leg went and screwed it up. When it got messed up, they tried their best, they really did, but it was just too much for them to deal with. Ma had to get a job at a factory to pay for all the doctors they took me to, an’ in the end it was for nothin’ since it can’t be fixed. I felt real guilty for wastin’ all their money, so I talked to Pa about it, and he said maybe I should try bein’ a newsboy in the city, that maybe I could help pay for myself. I thought that was a pretty good idea, so I left home an’ came here. My old apartment was too far away to walk back every night, so that’s how come I was staying in the lodging house at first.” Crutchie paused and looked at Jack, who was sitting with his hands between his knees, not looking at Crutchie.

“What do ya mean at first?” Jack asked quietly.

Crutchie faltered. He wasn’t sure if Jack was ready to hear about it. But Jack had asked, so Crutchie felt like he needed to answer. He continued gently. “I went to visit them one day, but no one was answerin’ the door. I tried the next door over, an’ they said that- that my parents were dead. It was pretty awful, hearin’ that. But I went to the newsies, an’ they all helped me get through it. They’re a great bunch of boys, all of ‘em. Don’t know what I’d do without ‘em, really.”

Jack was completely still. Crutchie’s parents had died too? He couldn’t stop himself as his hands moved up to hold his arms. He started pressing down, still trying not to use his nails.  _ Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about- _ “How did they die, Crutchie?”

“Jack, I don’t think I should tell you any more about this,” Crutchie replied. His voice was soft. “I think I should stop talkin’ about it.”   
Jack’s fingertips pressed down harder and he stared at his arms, trying to avoid looking at the big scar he knew was on the underside of his left arm.  _ Don't think about it don't think about it don't you dare think about it stop stop stop-  _ “Crutchie. How did they die?”

Crutchie answered reluctantly. “There was a fire. They couldn’t get out in time.”

_ A young boy wakes up in the middle of the night smelling smoke and hearing loud voices coming from the kitchen. He rubs his eyes and gets out of bed to see what’s happening. He opens his door and screams. There’s fire everywhere. The tiny apartment is hot and there’s smoke billowing from the kitchen. _

_ “Mom! Dad!” the boy screams. The voices stop. His mother appears in the doorway, a line of fire keeping her from her son. The boy starts crying and run towards her. _

_ “Jack, honey, stop! You’ll get hurt! Don’t let the fire touch you!” _ _   
_

_ “Mama!” the boy cries. _

_ “Jack, please get out! You can still be safe if you run right now! I’ll be fine, just go get help, please!” _ _   
_

_ “Mama, I can’t leave you!” The boy takes another step closer. It’s getting hard to breathe with all the smoke. _

_ “Jack, go! Don’t worry about me, just get yourself out, okay? I love you so much, baby. Never forget that. Please, just g-” The woman is yanked out of the boy’s view by his father. The yelling starts up again. _

_ The boy reaches an arm out to try to reach his mother. The fire hits the skin on his forearm and he screams. He pulls it back and runs out of the apartment. _

_ He doesn’t call for help. He stands outside in December and watches his life burn down. _

“Jack? Jack! Can you hear me? Are you okay?” Crutchie’s voice was distant in Jack’s ears.

Jack didn’t move. He didn't speak. He didn’t think he could. He was vaguely aware of his fingernails digging into the skin on his forearm. His forearm, where a sizeable burn mark was. He couldn’t feel anything. He scratched harder.

“Jack? What are ya doin’?  _ Christ, _ is that a burn? Stop scratchin’ at it, please.” Crutchie didn’t know what to do. Jack wasn’t responding, so he didn’t even know if Jack could hear him.

“Specs!” Crutchie yelled. Jack flinched but kept going. Crutchie swore softly and got up to go find Specs. He found him on the other side of the tree, maybe fifty feet away. “Specs, you gotta help me. I messed up an’ now Jack’s not answerin’ me an’ he’s scratchin’ at what I think’s a burn on his arm? It looked like it was about to bleed. God, Specs, I don’t know what to do.”

“Where is he?” Specs asked immediately. Crutchie led him quickly to the oak tree where Jack was sitting. He hadn’t moved. The only indication that Crutchie had left and come back was the blood now running down Jack’s arm.

“Jack.” This was a different voice, a softer but more urgent one. Specs. “Jack, please look at me.”

Jack tried to look. His head didn’t move. He drew in a shuddering breath and dug in deeper. He could feel wetness on his arm, but he still couldn’t feel any pain so he kept going. His mother’s last words were replaying in his ears. He wished he’d died that night in the fire.

“Jack.” Specs’s voice was insistent. “Please stop scratchin’ at your arm, it’s bleedin’.”   


Jack didn’t stop. He wanted to stop. He couldn’t stop moving his fingers. He still couldn’t feel anything. Maybe if he went deeper he would feel something.

Specs moved in front of Jack and met his gaze. Jack’s eyes were wide and fearful. Specs whispered, “Jack, please stop scratchin’.”   


The eye contact had changed something. Jack found himself opening his mouth and answering Specs.

“I can’t.” His voice broke and he looked down.

He still couldn’t stop his fingers from digging into his arm, but his arm shifted. He scratched the skin right next to the burn. He cried out. It  _ hurt. _ All at once, the feeling he’d been missing hit him like a train. He recoiled and immediately dropped his arms to his sides. He looked at his left arm and started crying when he saw it. It was covered in blood that was oozing out of the gashes he’d made in the burn tissue. It started stinging.

“Jack, are you okay?” Jack looked up and remembered that Specs and Crutchie were still there. They were staring at him. A wave of nausea hit him. They couldn’t be here, he couldn’t be seen like this. Nightmares about the Refuge were one thing. Scratching his arm open because of a bad memory was completely different. With arms limp at his sides, Jack put his head on his knees and cried harder.

“Crutchie, I’m gonna go run and see if I can find a buildin’ that has a first aid kit. Stay with him, okay?” Specs said, turning to Crutchie. Crutchie nodded quickly and moved to sit next to Jack, making sure he wasn’t too close.

"You wanna talk about it?" Crutchie asked cautiously.

"Go away."

"We both know I ain't gonna do that. It's fine if you don't wanna talk about it, but I ain't leavin' ya."

"Stop starin' at me." Jack still hadn't looked up.

"How do ya know I'm lookin' at ya if you won't look up, huh?" Crutchie teased gently, hoping to lighten the mood.

Jack wasn't amused. "Please stop," he whispered. Crutchie looked away.

"Alright, I ain't gonna look at you, but I'm gonna ask some questions, an' it'd be nice if ya answered them. You don't have to, but I'd like it if ya did."

Jack said nothing, but nodded slightly.

"Okay, Jack, let's start off with a real simple one. How old is you?"

There was a slight pause, then Jack answered, "Fifteen."

"Fifteen?" Crutchie exclaimed. "What the hell, I'm only fourteen! I could've sworn I was at least the same age as ya!"

Crutchie glanced over at Jack out of the corner of his eye, and saw Jack laughing quietly. He smiled. It was working.

"Specs said I look real young, too," Jack said. "When I told him how old I am he said he thought I was eleven."

Crutchie started laughing. He looked over at Jack fully, and theatrically looked him up and down. "Hmm, I guess I could see you as eleven." Jack propped his head up on his knees and mocked hurt before grinning at Crutchie. His arms were still at his sides, like he was afraid of touching them, but he was smiling and laughing and Crutchie wanted to keep him that way.

"Okay, mister 'I'm older than you', here's another question for ya: what's your favorite color?"

"Blue," Jack responded.

"Blue? Kinda like your shirt, huh?" Crutchie noted, looking at the bright blue shirt Jack was wearing.

Jack smiled and looked at it too. "Yeah, I guess. This ain't my favorite shade 'a blue, though."

"Oh? It ain't? Well what is, then?" Crutchie asked, curious.

"It's sorta more of a greenish blue? Kinda muted, so not super bright, like my shirt, and greenish." Crutchie nodded, though he still looked a little confused at the description. Before Jack could stop himself, he added, "Kinda like your eyes."

Crutchie blushed. Jack had noticed his eyes? More importantly, they were Jack's  _ favorite color? _ He stared into Jack's eyes, and Jack stared right back. His blue eyes were gentle, and he was also blushing slightly. Neither of them said anything.

Specs ran up, panting. He skidded to a halt and gasped out, "I found- a library with a- kit. Sorry I- took so long." He noticed Jack and Crutchie, saw them staring at each other and blushing, and stopped.

Jack and Crutchie startled and looked up at Specs at the same moment. He was out of breath and clearly panicked about leaving Jack for that long. Jack realized Specs had just seen him staring at Crutchie and tried not to recoil. He was fine, nothing had happened,  _ he was fine. _

"Did I, uh, interrupt somethin'?" Specs asked cautiously. Jack shook his head and looked away, fighting the urge to put his head back down. "That's good, I think? Well, I got some bandages so we can wrap up your arm. You wanna do that now?"

Jack looked back down at his arm and winced. The blood had almost dried now, and it was stinging. Specs noticed, and promptly took his shirt off, leaving him in only his undershirt, and ran over to the fountain to wet it. He hurried back over and handed the damp shirt to Jack. Jack took it and looked up at Specs in confusion.

"So you can clean all the blood off your arm before it gets covered," Specs explained. Jack nodded slowly and stared at his arm. He didn't want to clean it, not with Specs and Crutchie staring at him.

Crutchie picked up on this, and called Specs over to him. Specs went, looking at Crutchie, and opened his mouth to question him.

"I think he don't want us lookin' at him while he does this. He's prob'ly embarrassed about it an' us starin' at him won't help," Crutchie whispered, glancing at Jack.

Specs nodded in agreement. "That makes sense."

Jack was grateful to Crutchie. He'd made sure he and Specs weren't looking so Jack could wash his arm off without being watched. He brought his left arm up to sit in his lap and started gingerly wiping at it. He winced and hissed in pain. It really hurt now that he could feel again. He ignored that his arm was screaming at him to stop and kept wiping it, determined to get it clean quickly.

When he was finished, he looked at Specs's shirt which was now bloody and wet. He turned to look at Crutchie and Specs.

"Uh, Specs?"

Specs faced Jack right away. "Yeah, Jack?"

"I'm done now. Also sorry I kinda ruined your shirt," Jack apologized, displaying the section of the shirt that was stained. Specs smiled and shook his head.

"That's fine, Jack, I've got an extra. Ready to wrap it up?" He tossed the roll of bandages to Jack, who took it and tried to figure out how they worked.

"Jack, can I?" Crutchie asked, holding out his hand to take the roll.

Jack looked at him like he was stupid. "No."

"Why not? I know what I'm doin', this ain't my first time patchin' a kid up. Let me help."

Jack shook his head. "No. You're gonna touch me. I ain't lettin' ya touch me. I'll figure it out on my own, I'm fine." Crutchie could see Jack was getting worked up about it. He needed to calm him down before Jack freaked out again.

"Jack. Look at me." Jack stared, mouth still open to protest more. "I will not touch ya. I promise. I just want to wrap it around ya. I won't touch ya. I swear on my life."

Jack closed his mouth. He was stunned into silence. He nodded numbly and held out his arm and the bandages.

Crutchie smiled and thanked Jack. He unraveled a bit of the bandage and started explaining the process to Jack. "Okay, first off, I need to take a look and see how deep it is." He glanced down at Jack's arm and tried to keep his voice level when he continued. "Alright, it's pretty deep, so I need ta put some gauze on it too. Specs, was there gauze in the kit too?”

Specs searched for a moment then tossed some at Crutchie. Crutchie caught it and handed some to Jack.

“I need you to hold this over your arm, ‘kay? Then hold the end of the bandage down while I start to wrap it.”   


Jack did as he was asked, and whispered, “Promise ya won’t touch me?”

“I promise,” Crutchie reassured. “I can't guarantee you’ll like the feelin’ of the bandage on your arm, though. It’s kinda scratchy, but I need ya to keep it on, okay?”

Jack nodded and Crutchie started slowly wrapping around Jack’s arm, letting him know when he could move his fingers up to secure a different spot while the bandage covered more of his arm. Crutchie was incredibly gentle and kept looking into Jack’s eyes to try to calm him.

It worked. Jack stared back at him and his breathing was slow and regular. Jack was uncomfortably aware of the feeling of the tight bandage wrapping around his arm, but it somehow didn't matter very much when Crutchie was looking at him. His eyes were kind and soft and he kept whispering reassurances while he worked.

"Okay, Jack , I'm all done wrapping it up," Crutchie said once Jack's left forearm was completely covered in the white bandages. "I'm gonna ask you to tape it in place, so take this bit of tape, an' just put it on the bandage right here so it'll stay put. Once ya do that I can rip the end off an' then we'll be done with this."

Jack nodded and taped the bandage down where Crutchie indicated. Crutchie smiled and moved his hands closer to rip the end. Jack moved away instinctively.

"Sorry, I forgot to say. I'm gonna hafta get kinda close to your arm to rip it. I swear I won't touch ya but it'll be close, is that okay?"

"Promise?" Jack asked, though he was already moving his arm back towards Crutchie.

"Thanks. I promise." Crutchie reached out and took hold of the bandage, slowly so he didn't startle Jack, and started ripping it off of the roll. Jack held his breath the whole time, and exhaled in relief when Crutchie didn't touch him. He looked at his now covered arm then looked away. He didn't want to see it. He didn't want to think about it. He pushed down the sleeves of his shirt so his arms were covered. He kind of hated the feeling of the fabric where it wasn't normally, but it was better than looking and remembering. So he kept the sleeves down.

Specs cleared his throat. "You guys, uh, done, over there? We should be headin' back soon."

Jack blushed again. He'd completely forgotten that Specs was there. He'd been so focused on Crutchie that he'd forgotten that anyone else existed.

Crutchie grinned at Jack and started to stand up, seemingly unaffected by Specs's presence. He sighed and turned to Specs. "Yeah, it's gettin' a bit dark. I think we're good now."

Specs smirked at Crutchie and raised his eyebrows suggestively. Crutchie blushed and muttered, "Shut up." He turned back to Jack who was now standing and staring off into the distance. He furrowed his brow, worried that Jack was still thinking about whatever had caused this in the first place.

Jack was trying to decipher what had just happened. He was pretty confused. The bandage felt awful on his skin. The whole process should have been terrible. But it hadn’t been, and he was pretty sure it was because Crutchie had been the one helping him and talking to him and reassuring him and just being there for him. What did  _ that _ mean? He thought about it for a moment, then decided it was probably just because Crutchie had experience in that kind of stuff and was good at calming people down.

He started walking forward, and in his daze tripped on a rock. He snapped out of his thoughts and realized both Specs and Crutchie were staring at him. “What?” he asked, a little defensively.

“You sure you’re okay now, Jack?” Crutchie asked cautiously.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jack rubbed at his arm a bit. Crutchie reached out a hand to stop him before remembering.

“Don’t! Don’t pick at it, you’ll make the bandage fall off, okay?” Crutchie said.

Jack dropped his hand. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, ya didn't know. But just try not to pick at it. An’ can I ask one more thing?” Crutchie looked serious. Jack nodded and waited for the request. “Promise me ya won’t take it off. I want it to heal properly, an’ it can’t unless it’s covered and ya ain’t pickin’ at the wound. Promise me, Jack. Please.”   


Jack looked at Crutchie. He could feel his arm itching and he really wanted to scratch it, but he also wanted to make Crutchie happy. “I promise.”   


“Good.” Crutchie smiled. “Now let’s go home.”

The three walked side-by-side, with Crutchie in the middle. Specs elbowed Crutchie and mouthed something that he couldn’t quite make out, but he was sure it was some form of teasing him about Jack. He hit Specs lightly with his crutch, but smiled nonetheless. Sure, Jack was nice, and Crutchie liked him. But who didn’t? Jack was an extremely likeable person. Besides, even if Crutchie  _ did _ have feelings for Jack, which he  _ didn’t, _ Jack would never like him back. Jack had never known love or affection. Crutchie wouldn’t be surprised if Jack never dated anyone, simply because he’d been conditioned to believe he was unloveable. Crutchie wanted to be the one to change that. But that was unrealistic. He shook his head. He needed to forget about this. He didn’t even  _ like _ Jack. Probably. 

He turned to Jack. “So, are ya ready to eat when we get back? I’m starved!”

Jack laughed a bit at Crutchie’s enthusiasm. “I guess? I’m pretty hungry too.”

Crutchie chattered away excitedly the whole walk back. Jack kept laughing, which made Crutchie say funnier things because he wanted Jack to laugh again. They were almost in tears by the time they passed Jacobi’s. Specs paused their progress.

“Hey, do ya mind if I dip to go see Romeo? Haven’t seen him all day an’ I’d like to say hi. I’m sure the two of ya can occupy yourselves when I’m gone.”   


Crutchie looked at Jack, who nodded. “Sounds good, Specs. Tell him we say hi if ya get a chance.”

Specs grinned and opened the door. “Thanks, guys. See ya!” He waved and let the door close behind him.

“I swear, he’s obsessed with that boy,” Crutchie muttered. Jack giggled. They kept walking.

When they got back to the lodging house, it was mostly empty, except for Race. Crutchie waved at him and smiled. “Heya, Race! Whatcha doin’ back so early?”   


Race walked up to them, pulling on his collar a bit. “Hey, Crutchie, Jack. Good day in Brooklyn, I guess. I mighta stayed a bit longer, but Spot said there’s a storm comin’ tonight, an’ I  didn’t want to be stuck in that, so I headed home.”   


“A storm?” Crutchie looked excited. Jack felt his stomach drop.  _ A storm? _

“Yeah, Spot seems to think it’ll be pretty bad. Can’t say I’m excited.”   


“I am! I love storms!”   


“Yeah, and you’re also crazy!” Race joked. “Jack, stay clear ‘a this guy, he’s insane. Thinks storms are nice. Ain’t nothin’ nice about loud noises and flashin’ lights, my friends!”

Jack nodded. Though Race was kidding, Jack agreed with him. There was absolutely nothing pleasant about thunderstorms. He hated them. He just hoped this Spot was wrong.

“Well, Racetrack, sorry to cut this short but we’ve had a long day an’ I think Jack could use some sleep. We’ll see ya tomorrow?”

“Hey!” Jack protested. “You can’t tell me what to do, Crutchie, I’m older than ya! It ain’t fair!”   


Crutchie laughed. “Yeah, well, I’ve been here longer, so I think I get a say. Race, don’tcha think I’m allowed to tell Jack if he should go to bed?”   


Race stared at Jack. “Woah, slow down for a sec. You’re  _ older _ than him? I thought you were like twelve or somethin’!”

Jack groaned. “Why’s everyone always sayin’ that? I’m fifteen, not eleven  _ or _ twelve!”

Race almost choked. “No. No  _ way _ you’re as old as me! That ain’t right, are you sure?”   


Crutchie couldn’t stop laughing as Jack started getting more defensive.

“Yes, I’m sure! I’ve had enough birthdays to know how old I am, thank ya very much, and I’m fifteen years old!”

“God, ya look so young! You better be exploitin’ that when you’re sellin’ papes, Jack. Lookin’ young’s a gift in our job. I  _ wish  _ I could still pass as eleven, you’s lucky.”   


Jack smiled proudly. ‘Yup! Moms love me!”   


Crutchie stopped laughing long enough to say, “Jack. Bed. Please.”

Jack sighed theatrically and said goodnight to Race. Race waved back at him and took off in the opposite direction. Jack followed Crutchie to the bunk room and climbed into his bed.

He took off his cap and vest, leaving the blue shirt on so he couldn’t look at his arm. He still didn’t like the feeling but maybe having a blanket too would make it better. 

“Night, Jack,” Crutchie called from below.

“Night,” Jack called back.

_ Please let me have one good night, _ he thought to himself.  _ Just one. I’m so tired of all these nightmares. I just wanna sleep tonight. _

Jack closed his eyes and hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I'm sorry for hurting Jack again god I didn't mean to I swear  
> -How about that tragic backstory huh??? let me know if it's inaccurate I've never experienced one  
> -listen did you read that shit at the end??? that my friends is the groundwork for YEARS of mutual pining I can't wait  
> -next chapter I'm sorry jack still suffers but there's also gay shit so it'll be good  
> -comments! kuods!!! please!!!! I love validation and this is getting increasingly hard to stay ahead in (this chapter is almost 6k words alone it's hard to write that much in a week) and comments make me want to keep writing <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm and Racetrack is really gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a late upload! I got really distracted today haha  
> also tw for parental abuse? it's just mentioned but it's definitely there so be safe all!

As soon as the first bright flash of lightning illuminated his closed eyelids, Jack woke up. He sat up and heard rain pounding on the window. He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged his knees to his chest, waiting for the thunder to follow.

When the thunder crashed, he flinched. His blankets were immediately too much. He shoved them off, but it was still too much. He realized his shirt was still on and frantically clawed at the buttons, shoving it off and hoping it would get better. It was, but now he could see the bandage and it felt suffocating and it was itching and he needed it off. He brought his right hand up to scratch at it, then remembered his promise to Crutchie.  _ Promise me ya won't take it off. _ He couldn't let Crutchie down. He dropped his hand.

Lightning, then thunder. He dropped his head onto his knees, trying to block out the bright flashes. He could still hear the heavy rain sounding like it was about to break the windowpanes. He couldn't predict the thunder anymore. He tensed in anticipation of the next boom. It hit, and he whimpered quietly. He started shaking. He wanted it to stop. He couldn't do anything to make it stop. Everyone else was still asleep, he was just being weak. He had to get through this alone.

At the first crash of thunder, Race sat bolt upright, immediately awake. He swore. Of  _ course _ Spot had been right about a storm. He shivered and tugged his blanket around his shoulders, as if it would protect him. Lightning flashed, and he saw rain streaming down the window. Thunder boomed again immediately afterwards, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. None of the other newsies were afraid of storms, it was just him. He couldn't wake them. He had to be as quiet as possible. He thought he heard sheets rustling, but it was probably just someone shifting in their sleep, blissfully unaware of the terror he was facing.

Lightning, then thunder. Tears pricked in his eyes and he rubbed them away furiously. He was supposed to be better now. He was safe. He was  _ not _ going to cry. He stared at the window, watching for the next flash of lightning so he would be ready for the thunder. The lightning was almost blinding; he closed his eyes instinctively and waited. The thunder was louder than any of the previous crashes had been. It sounded so close. He flinched and a single tear ran down his face. He put his head in his hands and started shaking.

He heard a quiet whimper. He looked up. No one else was supposed to be awake. He stood up slowly, legs slightly unsteady. He clung to the bedpost and waited for lightning to illuminate the room so he could see who was awake.

In the momentary brightness, he saw a small figure curled up and shaking in the top bunk in the corner. Jack. He waited for the thunder to hit before he made his way over. The huge boom made his knees buckle and he struggled to stay upright. He heard Jack whimper again and started walking closer.

"Jack?" he whispered, voice shaking slightly. Jack looked up with a tear streaked face. Lightning lit them both up and Jack could see that Race's face was pale and he was trembling and there was a stray tear making its way down his cheek. Just like Jack. The room went dark again, and they both closed their eyes and waited for the crash. Race choked back a sob and Jack flinched again. Race opened his eyes again and and moved closer to Jack.

"Jack, it's Race," he whispered gently. "I'm guessin' you're scared 'a thunder too? Wanna come down and talk with me? You ain't have to, but since we's both awake we might as well, right?"

Jack nodded. "Might as well."

Race stepped back to allow Jack to climb down. He led Jack slowly out of the room, closing the door behind them. "So's we don't wake the others up," he explained.

Jack looked around the room they were in. There were no windows, so the rain was quieter, but there was no way to anticipate the thunder anymore.

As if on cue, there was another loud boom. Race sank down onto a nearby bench and gripped his shoulders tightly. "I wasn't kiddin' when I said Crutchie's crazy for likin' these things," he mumbled, eyes shut and trying to convince himself he was okay.

Jack sat down next to him. He was still shaking and his arm was still itching and the bandage was still too tight, but there was a different atmosphere in this room and it was helping him breathe more evenly. "Yeah," he whispered back. "They're too loud."

"Right? And you don't ever really know when it'll happen, so you're just waitin' for the next hit."

Another crash. They both jumped and closed their eyes, waiting for a blow that didn't come. Race recovered first, and decided now was as good a time as any to get to know Jack.

"So Jack," he started nervously, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. "You, uh, you ain't so good with touch, right?"

Jack looked down. "Does it matter?"

"No, I ain't judgin' you! I wouldn't judge you about that." He paused, debating on whether or not he should say anything. Thunder boomed again, this time intense enough to shake the building slightly. Another tear fell down Race's face and he allowed himself one sob before he started talking again. He needed to say it. He needed someone other than Spot to know. Maybe it would make Jack feel better.

"Listen, Jack, I understand. I get it, the whole freakin' out about touch thing. I know it don't look that way anymore, but I used to be like you. Couldn't handle touch. I didn't know touch could do anythin' other than hurt, so's that's what I expected. I know how much it sucks."

Jack stared at Race. "You was locked up too?" he asked softly. Gently.

Memories flashed through Race's mind. Hateful words screamed in Italian. Punches and slaps given to him as often as food should have been. Nights spent crying alone in a cupboard only his parents held a key to.

He flinched. "Somethin' like that, yeah."

The rain picked up and they could hear it pounding on the roof. Wind howled outside. They waited anxiously for the next bang. It came, and they both let a few tears fall, not saying anything for a moment.

Race understood. Jack couldn't believe it. Race knew what he was dealing with.  _ Race understood. _

"Are you-" Jack hesitated slightly. "Are you better now?"

Race smiled gently and nodded. "Yeah. Not perfect, but I'm a lot better than I was. Spot really helped me with it."

Race was better. Not only did Race know how Jack felt about touch, but he'd  _ gotten through it. _ Maybe Jack wasn't hopeless after all.

"You were at the refuge? I don't remember seein' you ever," Jack said, glancing over at Race.

Race closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Nah, not the refuge. Someplace else."

Jack looked worried. "There's another one? Geez, that's awful. I thought there was only one place like that."

There was another loud crash of thunder, but neither boy flinched at it. Race squeezed his shoulders tighter, and Jack bit his lip, but neither of them flinched.

"It wasn't another refuge. It was-" Race faltered. It was hard to talk about this. "It was my, um, my parents. Thought I wasn't good enough, or somethin'. I don't really know. All I know is Spot got me out and brought me here, and that's how come I was able to get better. My parents don't live in Brooklyn, so I sell there instead of here. I know I'm safe here and they can't get me. Haven't seen 'em in four years, and I don't intend to see 'em anytime soon, either."

Race exhaled. He'd just shared his past with someone he'd only met a few days ago. No one other than him and Spot knew. He didn't regret it, though.

"God, that's awful, I'm sorry, Race," Jack whispered, wishing he was able to offer more comfort than just words. "Your own folks. They shouldn't do that to a kid."

Race sighed. "Yeah, they shouldn't. But they did, an' I can't do nothin' about that now. You got folks?"

Jack winced and rubbed at the bandage, trying to block out the memories. He didn't want a repeat of what had happened only a few hours before.

"Not anymore," he mumbled. "I don't like to think about it."

Race nodded. "I understand. I won't pry. Do ya mind me askin' what happened to your arm, though? It was fine yesterday."

Thunder boomed again, but this time it was softer and longer. Jack and Race just kept talking.

Jack looked down at his exposed arm. He needed to stop picking at the bandage or he would disappoint Crutchie. He ignored the itching and looked back at Race, not fully meeting his eyes.

"You know how I said I don't like thinkin' about my folks?" he started. Race nodded and waited for Jack to continue. Jack took a deep breath and kept talking. "There's a... reminder, on my arm. An' I thought about it too much. Sorry, that prob'ly sounds dumb."

Jack turned away, embarrassed.

"Jack." There was something in Race's voice that made Jack face him again. "I know what you mean."

"You- you understand?" Jack whispered.

Race nodded and shut his eyes for a moment. He opened them, and tugged the bottom of his shirt up to expose his stomach. To expose the giant scar that a bad night and a knife had left. To expose the countless tiny scars all around it that looked like they were made by claws. To expose himself, because Jack no doubt knew that he'd clawed at it himself when he couldn't stop remembering.

"I understand," he repeated. He pushed his shirt back down. He hugged himself tighter, now as more of a comforting action than a fearful one.

The thunder was becoming less frequent. The wind was slowing down. Things were beginning to calm.

"So what is the refuge, anyways?" Race asked. "I hear guys talkin' about it, and I know it's an awful place, but I don't really know what it is. Can you explain it?"

"It's a jail, basically," Jack explained quietly. "For kids. Snyder, the guy who runs the place, he gets money for each kid what he takes in. The government or whatever thinks he's helpin' kids who break laws learn to be productive members of society. But he ain't. He takes the money he gets and keeps it for himself. It's three kids to a bed there, rats everywhere, food maybe once a day, and that's if you're lucky. I wasn't lucky, sadly. He really didn't like me for some reason, an' kids he don't like are locked in the basement. It's awful down there. It's real hot and stuffy and it smells like blood and tears cause he beats on the kids he puts down there. You forget what the sun looks like down there. You forget what fresh air feels like. You forget what living's supposed to be like. It's an awful place."

Race looked at Jack, horror clearly written on his face. "That's awful! How old were ya when you were put in there?"

"Eight."

Race made a small noise of indignation. "The hell are they lockin' eight year olds up for?"

"Loitering and vagrancy, apparently. I guess bein' a homeless kid's against the law. Doesn't matter anyhow. I was released once, when I was ten, but I tried to smuggle blankets an' food in for the boys still stuck in there an' I got caught. Sent right back, 'cept this time it was until I'm an adult cause I was stealin'."

"Jesus, that's terrible. You spent half your life in there! I can see why you don't like to be touched."

Jack smiled softly. "Yeah."

The rain was barely audible on the roof now. Thunder hadn't hit in a long time. The storm was drawing to a close.

"But you're out now, yeah? And you never have to go back. We'll protect ya," Race promised.

"Thanks, Race." Jack glanced around. "Sounds like it's over now? We can probably sleep now."

Race yawned on cue and stretched. "Yeah. We've already had our deep conversation for the night. I'm exhausted. Can't wait to hit my bed and just pass out."

Jack nodded wistfully and stood up. Race followed suit, and they headed back to the bunk room. Jack climbed into his bed, and Race collapsed onto his.

"Night, Race," Jack called softly.

"Night," Race groaned back through his pillow.

They both drifted off, dreading having to sell the next morning on so little sleep.

***

Jack opened his eyes. It was still dark. He sat up and blearily rubbed his eyes. Why was he awake? He was sure it couldn't have been long since he fell asleep.

Thunder rumbled, quiet but daunting, and Jack slumped forward.  _ Again? _

" _ Jesus fuck. _ " Jack looked over to Race's bunk and saw him also sitting up, whispering curse words. Jack started giggling silently. He didn't know why; it wasn't even that funny. But he'd rather be laughing than scared, so he let it happen. Lightning flashed and he saw rain hitting the window. He was still laughing, but a loud crash of thunder, a lot closer than the last one, made him stop abruptly as he jumped. He shivered and pushed his blankets off.

Race couldn't stop swearing. He was still being quiet, but there were no words to describe how pissed he was that the storm was back. So he swore instead. The first words that escaped his lips were, " _ Jesus fuck. _ " He looked up at Jack's bunk and saw him sitting upright and shaking. He stopped swearing and stood up way too quickly, his head swimming as he tried to maintain his balance. He clutched the bedpost again, waiting for the thunder before he went to Jack.

It was loud and close, much more so than he'd been expecting, and he shut his eyes and dug his fingernails into the wooden post.  _ You're fine, this already happened, you're fine, you're safe, you're out, it's not him, you're fine. _ Race uncurled his fingers and walked across the room to Jack's bed.

"Jack?" he whispered. "Wanna go talk again or somethin'?"

Jack nodded and climbed down. He followed Race again out of the room and shut the door behind them.

Learning from last time, they both hurried to sit down so they wouldn't lose control of their legs at the next crash of thunder. Race hugged himself tightly, and Jack's arms were at his sides not touching anything. Race turned slightly to face Jack.

"So what do ya wanna talk about? I don't really wanna get as deep as we did last night, but I don't know what else we should talk about."

Jack considered for a moment. "Can you tell me about Spot? You keep mentionin' him, but I don't know who he is. Tell me what he's like."

Thunder crashed and rain poured down and Racetrack Higgins started talking about his best friend.

“Well,” he started. “First of all, I’m sure you know he’s leader of Brooklyn?” Jack nodded. “He’s only fifteen, like us. Ain’t many kids this young that get to be in charge of a borough that big. He’s loud and confident and funny and really pr- uh, really nice. He’s real protective of his boys, an’ he’ll do anything to keep ‘em safe. He’s my best friend, has been for years. I lo- care about him a lot. He really helped me out when I was in a tough situation, an’ I can never thank him enough for that.”   


The whole time Race was talking, Jack stared at him. His small frame was still shaking slightly, but as he stared at Race with wide eyes, he forgot about the storm happening around them. Race was smiling softly, and blushing a tiny bit (though he would never admit it), and Jack could see the adoration in Race’s eyes as he described his best friend. It was clear that he’d forgotten about the storm too.

“What’s he look like?” Jack asked when Race was done talking.

Race chuckled softly. “He hates when I bring it up, but he’s real short. ‘Bout the same as Crutchie, I bet. He’s tanner than me, got real nice dark brown hair, almost black in some lightin’, but it kinda looks like chocolate almost in the sun. It’s so soft, sometimes he falls asleep on me an’ I just play with his hair. Um, pretend you didn’t hear that. An’ his eyes are real pret- he gets black eyes a lot, it’s pretty funny. They’re a little lighter than his hair, but they almost look like gold in the sun. he thinks they’re borin’, wishes he had blue eyes like me, but I like ‘em more'n I like my eyes, if I’m bein’ honest. He's got a nice smile, even if most guys don't get to see it often. He likes me though, so I get to see it a lot. Sort of lights up his whole face. An' his laugh? I swear it could end wars, it's so good. I love makin' him laugh. It's bright an' clear and happy, y'know? I don't know, I just like it when he's happy. Makes me feel like I'm doin' somethin' right. Oh, and he's real strong, too. I don't know how someone that short can be that muscular, but he does it. I may be taller than him but sometimes he picks me up if I'm pissin' him off, it's real funny. An' just- he's good, ya know? I like him a lot, I'm lucky I get to call someone as good as him my bo- best friend."

Race was openly smiling now, and his cheeks were more than a little pink. It was clear how much he loved Spot. Jack thought they were probably together, but the way Race was stuttering to ensure he didn't say anything that would give it away completely told Jack that he shouldn't mention it.

A huge boom of thunder made them both jump.

"Shit, that was loud!" Race hissed. "How the hell is no one else awake?"

Jack just shook his head. He had no clue how anyone could sleep like this. He shivered. He wanted to forget about the storm again.

"How'd you meet him?" Jack whispered.

Race smiled again. "It's a bit of an embarrassin' story, actually. I was havin' a, um, a pretty rough night, so's I left. I couldn't be in the same buildin' as my folks any longer so I just walked out the front door. No one tried to stop me. I don't know how long I walked, but eventually I was walkin' over the Brooklyn bridge and then I wasn't sure where to go. I'd been tryin' not to cry the whole time I was walkin', but I think I realized I was lost an' that was the final straw. I just lost it. I was about eleven at the time, mind you, so I think I was justified in cryin'. Anyways, I found an alley, and I just took one look at it an' sat down and cried. It was pitiful. An' then, I heard some footsteps. My first thought was that my dad had found me, so I started cryin' harder cause I was expectin' him to hurt me or somethin', I don't know. An' then I heard a voice, and it asked me, 'are you okay?' An' I just looked up, cause it wasn't my dad. An' I saw a kid about my age, and he was holdin' out a hand. I just looked at it. Couldn't even remember the last time someone wasn't tryin' to hurt me when they put a hand near me. I sorta shifted away from the hand, and I guess I must'a looked pretty scared, cause he said, 'kid, I ain't gonna hurt ya.' An' then he said his name is Spot Conlon and am I lost? And I said my name's Antonio Higgins and yeah I am. An' he sorta laughed a bit, cause my name's real Italian sounding, and he says, 'well, Higgins, if you wanna be my friend you're gonna hafta get a better name than that.' And Spot tells me to get up, and helps me find my way back to the bridge and points me in the right direction. He told me to come back when I had a better name, and asked if I would be okay on my own. I sorta smiled and nodded and went back to my parents. They didn't say anything, not even to ask where I was. That night, I couldn't stop thinkin' about Spot Conlon. The kid who asked if I was alright. No one'd ever done that. An' after that night, whenever it got real awful, I'd just think about how I could probably see Spot the next day, and things would get better. He was like my shield. He didn't really understand what was goin' on with me, but he knew not to ask and not to touch me, so I spent a lot of time with him. Eventually, after we'd hung out at Sheepshead a bunch and it turned out I'm real good at gamblin', we decided I'd call myself Racetrack. We both liked the name, an' it made me my own person instead of just my parents' son. An' then he got me out. It was the night I got the scar on my stomach. I was bleedin' real bad but I didn't know what to do other than find Spot so I went to Brooklyn and looked. He found me and asked who did it, an' I think he wanted to kill my parents after I told him. He took me to the Brooklyn lodge and took care 'a me, an' promised I'd never go back there. I think he saved my life, honestly."

Jack stared at Race again. "Your real name is Antonio?"

Race groaned. "If you tell anyone else I'll kill you. Or, for that matter, if you tell anyone else anything I just told you. None of these boys need to know. I trust ya enough to know, but you can't tell anyone. I mean it. Got it?"

Jack tried to put on a serious face. "Got it. I won't tell anyone else."

Race let out a sigh of relief, then shushed Jack and listened for signs of rain or thunder. There was nothing. He grinned.

"Sounds like the storm's stopped, huh?" he asked. Jack listened too, and smiled when he couldn't hear anything. He nodded and started to get up. Race did the same.

At the door to the bunk room, Race paused and turned to Jack. "This has been fun, Jack. A lot better than storms usually are. Thanks for talkin' with me. Now, I swear if this storm comes back I'll damn kill someone. Night, Jack."

Jack smiled and climbed up to his bed. "Night, Race."

The storm didn't come back. Both of them slept peacefully.

***

The next day, after buying his papes, Racetrack Higgins hurried across the Brooklyn bridge to find Spot Conlon. He pulled him by the front of his shirt into an alley, where Spot looked at him questioningly. Once they were far enough in, Race put his arms around Spot and hugged him tightly.

"Race?" Spot asked, though he hugged back immediately. "You okay?"

"There's a new kid," Race mumbled into Spot's shoulder. "Who don't like to be touched. An' I get that, since I used to be like that. But he's scared of thunder too, so we sat together and talked a bit last night. I'm fine, just really wanted a hug all last night and I couldn't get one. Figured you wouldn't object."

Spot pulled Race's face up so they were looking at each other, and then pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Hey, course I wouldn't. You know I'm always here for you, Race. Anythin' you need, I'm right here."

Race kissed him back for a moment, then pulled away with a glance to the bright entrance. "We should, uh, get to work probably. See you later?"

Spot stepped away, but kept Race's hand tight in his. "See ya later. Maybe we can hang out after you's finished sellin' all your papes." Spot smirked suggestively.

Race laughed. "Maybe so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -while I was trying to write the description of Spot I literally got sidetracked for an hour looking at pictures of Tommy Bracco oops  
> -can you believe how fuckin gay Race is like wow he's in Love  
> -I usually try to have next week's chapter done by the time I post this week's but I'm only 1.5k into next week's save me force me to write please  
> -comments!! kudos!!! interaction!!!! I adore hearing how you feel about this fic!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all I have to say is yikes

The next day was good. Jack woke up feeling fine, albeit tired, and he convinced Crutchie to accompany him and Specs again. He bought 30 papers, ten more than he had the day before, and he easily sold all of them. Crutchie asked about the storm, making sure Jack had been okay. Jack thought back to the previous night, back to his conversations with Race, and smiled.

"I was fine," he said, remembering his promise not to say anything.

"That's really good," Crutchie replied with a smile. "I was worried you'd be all alone and scared. Ya know, Race is scared of storms too, if you ever need anyone to talk to."

Jack giggled. "Is he? I'll keep that in mind."

Jack kept his sleeves rolled down, and barely noticed the bandage rubbing on his skin. He cracked jokes and made Crutchie and Specs laugh. They headed back to Jacobi's when they were done selling, and Jack talked to the newsies he didn't know as well. He really liked Elmer, Finch, and Buttons, though all the boys warned against getting too close to Buttons because "you'll catch fleas!" Albert was nice too, but he was loud and not really interested in having a calm conversation. He and Finch eventually left to go shoot things with Finch's slingshot.

By far, the most memorable conversation Jack had was with Kid Blink and Mush. Because of his eyepatch, Blink kept making pirate jokes and doing a really bad impression of one. He was intense, but Mush's quiet personality balanced him out well.

"I'm sorry," Mush apologized immediately after the first joke. "He does this sometimes."

Jack laughed at the earlier jokes, but they quickly turned more suggestive as Blink's attention moved to Mush.

"You can shiver  _ my _ timbers anytime," he said, winking with his good eye. Mush turned bright red.

"Uh, am I supposed to be hearing this?" Jack whispered to Crutchie.

Crutchie looked at Jack with a hand over his mouth to suppress a laugh. "Probably not, but I want to hear more pirate pickup lines," he replied.

"Wanna go outside and walk the plank?" Blink continued.

"That doesn't even make  _ sense, _ " Mush groaned. "I hate you."

Blink gasped and put a hand to his heart. "But babe, you're my first mate!"

Crutchie was shaking with silent laughter. Jack was sure his face was at least as red as Mush's, if not more. Blink didn't even spare a glance at them.

"I'm gonna punch ya," Mush threatened, though the smile on his face said otherwise. Blink grinned at him and kept flirting.

At this point, tears were running down Crutchie's face from trying so hard not to laugh. Jack had to clap a hand over his mouth to hide the giggle threatening to escape.

"Nah, you love me," Blink stated matter-of-factly. He shaped his right hand into a hook and tried to use it to pull Mush in for a kiss. Mush slapped it away.

"Make one more damn pirate joke an' we're through," he warned.

Blink didn't listen.

"Hey Mush," he said, poking Mush's side. "Mush."

Mush sighed. "What, Blink?"

A wicked smirk spread across Blink's face. He looked Mush straight in the eye. "Let's make like a cannonball and bang."

"Jesus Christ, I loathe you."

"Does that mean no?"

Mush put his head in his hands. "Not if you keep makin' pirate jokes," Mush promised.

Blink perked up. "Does that mean yes if I stop, then?"

"If you'll actually stop, then sure."

Blink immediately dropped the pirate accent and grabbed Mush's hand. He stood up and pulled Mush with him, announcing, "Well, kids, it's been fun, but it seems I'm about to get laid, so I'm gonna hafta cut this short. See ya!" And with that, they were gone.

Crutchie cracked up. Jack joined in. "I gotta say," Crutchie wheezed, "I never heard him say that last one before."

"Just the last one? Does he do that a lot?" Jack gasped out.

Crutchie nodded and wiped away tears. Jack's stomach hurt from laughing so hard.

It was a good day.

The next few weeks passed in a similar fashion. Eventually, Jack stopped selling with Specs and found his own spot with Crutchie. He started buying more papes and selling them all, quickly moving to a hundred a day.

After the first week, Crutchie had Jack remove the bandage so they could see how his arm was healing and replace the gauze. It was healing well, but it still needed another week or so to finish healing. He helped Jack wrap it back up, and promised to check it again in a week.

When Jack took the bandage off the next week, it was completely healed and the scarring wasn't much worse than it had been before. Crutchie was so proud of Jack for leaving his arm alone so it could get better. Jack was pretty proud of himself, too.

As the days stretched into weeks which stretched into months, Jack got better. He was loud and outgoing, befriending every newsie in the lodging house. People learned not to touch him. He became more confident in himself and was slowly convincing himself that he deserved the makeshift family he had. He was getting better.

Better didn't mean perfect. Jack still flinched when people accidentally brushed against him in the streets. He still had panic attacks when he was overwhelmed. He still had nightmares about the refuge. He still woke up in the middle of the night gasping for air and able to feel hands tightening around his throat. He still shoved his blankets away from his body, still frantically took off his blue shirt when the fabric was suffocating and he needed to breathe. He still cried silently when he had bad days.

Crutchie was still there for him.

They started sleeping on the rooftop. It was uncomfortable, but the cool night air was so much better for Jack than the stifling heat that sometimes filled the bunk room. Jack told Crutchie multiple times that he didn't need to sleep there, worrying about Crutchie's leg, but Crutchie stubbornly insisted. His commitment to staying near Jack made Jack smile and made his heart flutter a bit.

He still didn't understand what he felt for Crutchie. He knew that Crutchie and Specs were his two closest friends. He knew that he looked up to Specs and loved him like an older brother.

Crutchie was different.

Before Crutchie, Jack had never thought about love. Sure, he liked looking at the pretty girls that walked by, and he felt his face grow hot when they waved or winked at him. That was normal. That was expected.

What wasn't normal was that Jack felt the same way around Crutchie.

The way he looked at Jack made Jack blush and stumble over his thoughts. Crutchie's laugh was like music, and Jack forgot about everything bad in the world when he heard it. Crutchie listened to Jack, and comforted him during bad nights, but he never pitied Jack. Never once did he express any pity. Jack loved that about him. He listened and reassured and gave him space. He was incredibly kind and patient, but he was also loud and hilarious and knew how to have fun. And hell, Crutchie was so  _ pretty. _ His hair was like gold in the sun, and it looked unfairly soft. The more Jack stared at his blue-green eyes, the more he felt himself getting lost in their depths. They were so clear and they sparkled in the right lighting. Jack wished he had colors so he could draw them accurately. Crutchie's crooked smile made his heart race and he always found himself grinning back.

When he tried to make sense of this, Jack's thoughts always moved to Specs and Romeo, or to Blink and Mush. He knew they were dating, knew they were in love, but didn't know what exactly that meant. He tried asking Romeo once, but he'd just waved Jack away, saying he would know when he felt it.

So Jack kept his thoughts to himself. He convinced himself that Crutchie was just nice to everyone, that he wasn't anything special. That wasn't hard to do. When he was looking out for it, Jack saw Crutchie smiling and laughing with everyone else. Besides, even if his feelings were real, if he  _ did _ have a crush on Crutchie, he wasn't exactly the most loveable person. He could never hug or kiss or hold hands. He struggled with his self worth and found it hard to trust anyone. He woke up in the middle of the night unable to deal with the sensation of anything touching his skin, even himself. He was weak. He wasn't good enough, especially not for Crutchie.

That was the conclusion he came to each time he thought about it, so he stopped thinking about it.

More months passed. Soon, Jack had spent 6 months with the newsies. He moved up in rank and was respected by everyone. He started sketching on extra newspapers, finding that it helped him calm down when he was stressed. He bought himself a sketchbook and some charcoals and drew during his free time.

One day, just after Jack’s 16th birthday, Specs approached him cautiously. “Hey, Jack,” he said.

“Yeah?” Jack replied, glancing up from his latest drawing.

“See, I’ve been thinkin’,” Specs started.

“That’s never good,” Jack joked back.

Specs laughed. “You’ve got a point, but this is important. So I’ve been thinkin’, right? An’ I was thinkin’ about how much you’ve changed since you got here. You used to be this scrawny little kid who was scared to talk to anyone and wouldn’t even let Crutchie near ya. An’ now look at ya. You’re outgoin’ and confident and pretty damn strong. You look out for everyone an’ make sure the new kids are safe and comfortable. You an’ Crutchie are basically inseparable, and you’re better at sellin’ papes than any other newsie.”

“What’s your point?” Jack asked slowly. He didn’t know where Specs was going with this.

“Guess I did ramble a bit,” Specs said, laughing. “What I’m tryin’ to ask is, will you be the official leader of the newsies of Lower Manhattan?”

Jack’s jaw dropped and his charcoal fell out his hand.

“The  _ what? _ ” he asked incredulously. He must have misheard Specs.

Specs bent down and picked the charcoal back up for Jack. “Our leader. You’ve earned the spot, Jack. I think you deserve it.”

Jack tensed at the word  _ deserve.  _ He was hardly one to deserve anything. “...Me?” he asked tentatively. “I ain’t sure I’m exactly leader material.”

“Sure you is,” Specs assured. He wished he could pat Jack on the shoulder or back as a friendly gesture. He pushed down the urge and smiled instead. “You’re someone the new kids and even a lot of us older ones look up to. You’re so strong and brave and you care so much. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have leadin’ me, and the guys agree. Whaddya say?”

“I don’t wanna let anyone down,” Jack whispered. He shaded a dark corner of his drawing. The Refuge. He drew the Refuge a lot. “I ain’t as great as you’re sayin’. I know I’d end up disappointin’ the guys sooner or later.”

“You wouldn’t, Jack. Promise. We all get that sometimes you got a tough time dealin’ with stuff, an’ we’d never be mad at you for it. You won’t be a perfect leader, but no one’s a perfect leader. You’ll mess up a bit but you’ll grow and learn. You don’t gotta be our leader if you don’t wanna be, or if you don’t think you can, but I think you should give it a shot.”

Jack hesitated. “You really think I should?”   


“Yeah, I do.” Specs smiled. “I get it if it’s too much pressure or somethin’, but I really think you’d be great.”

Jack turned back to his drawing while he thought. He didn’t know what to do. Logically, he knew he was basically the leader already, and accepting wouldn’t change much. But saying yes meant adding a title. He wouldn’t be Jack Kelly anymore. He’d be Jack Kelly, leader of the newsies of Lower Manhattan. That was more. That was responsibility. That was expectations. He was scared of messing up, terrified of not being enough for the boys he’d come to think of as family.

But Specs seemed to be genuine. He’d promised Jack wouldn’t let anyone down. He knew Jack wouldn’t be perfect, but didn’t seem to mind.

“Okay,”Jack said finally. “Okay, yeah. If you think I’d be good leadin’ people then I’ll try.”

Specs clapped once in excitement. “That’s great, Jack! I’m real glad you’re willin’ to give it a shot. Now you just gotta let everyone know. We’ll do a formal vote to make sure everyone’s okay with it, but no one in his right mind’s gonna say no. That sound good?”

Jack nodded uncertainly. “When’s that happen?”

Specs looked at the clock on the wall. “Day’s almost over, wanna call a meeting in half an hour? Most everyone should be back by then.”

“That works,” Jack said. “What am I supposed to say? Do I give a speech or somethin’?”

“Maybe a little somethin’ ‘bout why you think you’d be a good leader, but there ain’t much pressure. ‘S not like you’re runnin’ against anyone else, plus everyone loves ya and they’ll want you to be their leader. Just think of a couple things to say and you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Specs,” Jack said with a smile. “It means a lot that you think I’m good enough to do this.”

“‘Course I think that,” Specs said. “There’s no one I’d rather have lead me.”

Jack couldn’t describe how he felt at that. It was kind of warm and happy and safe. Specs was so kind and supportive. He cared about Jack in a way no one else had in years. Crutchie cared, too, but that was different. Specs was like a brother to Jack. Crutchie was… something else. Jack didn’t quite know what.

He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. He needed to focus on what he was going to say to the other newsies. “Thank you,” he repeated. “Will you help me spread the word to the guys?”   


“Sure thing,” Specs replied. “I’ll head on over to Jacobi’s an’ tell all the guys there if that’s alright with you.”

“That sounds great,” Jack said. “I’ll see you in a bit, then?”

Specs nodded and went out the door. Jack took a deep breath. He was really doing this. He had no clue what to say to everyone. He still didn’t really think he deserved it, but if the other newsies thought he would be a good leader, then he would try. He just had to get that point across somehow.

Jack went to the common room and got everyone’s attention. “Hey guys, we’re gonna have a little meetin’ in a bit? We’ll do it in here, so just sit tight for a few while we wait for more people to get back, okay?”

The newsies nodded and went back to their previous conversations. Crutchie called Jack’s name and waved him over. Jack sat down on the couch next to him and took his cap off, running a hand through his hair.

“Is this meetin’ about you bein’ our leader?” Crutchie asked.

Jack chuckled. “How’d ya know?”

“Me ‘n Specs have been talkin’ about it for a while,” Crutchie replied. “I’m the one who said he should talk to you in the first place.”

“How many other people know?” Jack asked, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Crutchie tapped his chin, thinking. “Not too many. Bunch of the older ones. Race, Mush, Romeo, Blink, Finch maybe? Maybe Albert too, I ain’t too sure. They all agree, ‘course. We all think you’d be great as a leader. I’m guessin’ since there’s a meetin’ you said you’d do it?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah. We’re gonna have a vote so everyone gets a say, but if the guys want me in charge then I’ll try.”

Crutchie grinned. “No one’s gonna say no, Jack. Everyone loves ya. Did you prepare a big speech for us?”

“I’m workin’ on that right now,” Jack admitted with a smile. “I don’t really know what to say.”

“Well, just say why you think you’d be a good leader. Your strengths, how you’d manage us, what you’d do to make sure everyone’s safe an’ welcomed, stuff like that,” Crutchie offered.

“I don’t…” Jack started. “Do I have any strengths?”

“‘Course ya do,” Crutchie assured. “You’re kind, an’ smart, and real good at sellin’ papes. You work well with the new kids an’ make sure they feel safe. You’re great at talkin’ to people and you’re damn persuasive, too. You know what to say to make people feel better and you know how to be responsible an’ mature. You’re the bravest person I know. You’re my best friend.”

Jack didn't know what to say. He knew Crutchie. He knew that Crutchie didn't lie. So how was he saying such nice things to Jack?

"I don't really know what to say to that," Jack confessed. "Thanks, Crutchie. You're my best friend too. It means a lot that you think I'm good like that."

Crutchie smiled and opened his mouth to say something. Before he could, however, Specs walked into the common room leading a small group of other newsies.

Jack's head turned to look at the door, his eyes widening.  _ Already?  _ Specs motioned him over to a corner. Jack stood up, glancing at Crutchie one last time before he walked to where Specs was waiting for him.

Crutchie smiled and waved. "Good luck!" he called, giving Jack a thumbs up.

Jack looked up at Specs, about to tell him that he didn't know what to say.

"Relax," Specs said calmly. "Deep breaths, Jack. You can do this. You don't have to be scared to talk in front of these guys. I know it's scary, but you've got this. Just remember, I'm right here cheerin' you on the whole time. Crutchie is too. Focus on us if you get scared, okay?"

Jack took a deep breath. He hadn't even realized he was panicking until Specs said that. He exhaled. He could do this. He walked to the center of the room and tried not to flinch when he saw that everyone's eyes were fixed on him.

"Alright," he started. "So I don't know how many of you know this, but Specs came to me and asked if I'd be willin' to be the leader of our little group of newsies, so I'm gonna tell you why I think I'd be good at that. Um, well, I have experience sellin' papes, not as much as some of you, but I'm pretty good? I'm, uh, I'm good at..." He paused, searching for the right words to say. Crutchie's were circling around in his head. He could say them easily. He could repeat what Crutchie thought of him, fabricating his strengths. But they weren't  _ his _ words. They weren't real. He couldn't lie to these boys. His family.

He started over. "Okay, I'm gonna be honest. I really don't think I'd be a good leader. I think I'd let you all down. I think there's no way I can do as good a job as you deserve. But Specs wants me to try, an' Crutchie wants me to try. An' if you all want me to try, then I want to try for ya. I don't know why you'd think I'm the best choice, but I want to do the best I can to make you proud. So I won't be upset if you don't want me in charge of ya, but I want to try, if you wanna give me the chance. I want the best for all of ya, an' if you think I'd be the best, then I'll do my best to not let you down."

Jack took a breath and stopped speaking. There was silence in the room. Jack couldn't tell if that was good or bad. It was probably bad. After what he'd just said, there was no way anyone would want him in charge of them.   


Crutchie started clapping. Specs joined in immediately, then Race, then Romeo, then Mush, Blink, Finch, Elmer, until Jack couldn't make out distinct people because everyone was applauding him. Jack just stood there, not knowing what to do or how to respond. He didn't know why they were clapping. He hadn't said anything remarkable, he didn't think. But they were cheering and applauding him, and it didn't seem like they would stop anytime soon.   


After what seemed like forever, the noise finally died down. Specs made his way up to stand next to Jack. "I think it's pretty clear what you guys want, but to keep it official, we'll have a vote," Specs said. "All in favor of electing Jack leader of the newsies of Lower Manhattan, raise your hand."   


Every hand in the room was raised. Specs didn't even bother counting. "Any opposed?" he asked. It was just a formality; there wasn't a single hand up, just like he knew there wouldn't be. He turned to Jack and grinned. "Well, Jack, looks like it's decided. Congratulations, kid. I think you'll do great as our leader."   


"Yeah, Jack!" Albert yelled out. A couple of other newsies cheered or called out too. Jack smiled awkwardly.   


"Do I have to give another speech?" Jack whispered to Specs.   


"It doesn't have to be anythin' big, but I think you should say a couple of words," Specs answered.   


Jack turned back to the group. "Well," Jack said. The newsies all quieted to listen. "Like I said, I don't know how good I'll be at this, but it means a lot that you think I'm good enough to lead you. I'm gonna do my best to lead you well an' make this a safe place for everyone. Thanks for givin' me this chance, guys."   


Everyone started clapping again. Jack looked at Crutchie. He was cheering and smiling and looking at Jack. Jack smiled back at him.   


When the applause finally stopped, everyone looked at Jack again. "That's it, I think," Jack said. "I don't have nothin' else to say, so unless anyone else wants to say somethin' you can go back to what you was doin' before."   


The group dispersed. A lot of them came up to Jack to congratulate him before heading out of the room to do something else. Jack said "thanks" more times than he could count. Soon, only Jack, Specs, Romeo, and Crutchie were left in the room. Romeo waved Specs over to where he was sitting, taking his hand and draping his legs over Specs's lap. Jack sat down next to Crutchie. Crutchie grinned and did a tiny clap for Jack, and Jack grinned back, slightly giddy.   


"Specs?" Jack asked. Specs looked over at him and nodded, inviting him to go on. "Is there anythin' else I need to do? Or am I just in charge now?"   


"Well, I think Spot would want to know that we's got a new leader. He'll be pissed if he finds out from someone other 'n you."   


"Spot?" Jack recognized the name, but he didn't remember why.   


"Spot Conlon," Specs said. "Leader of Brooklyn. He'll want to meet you. Sooner you go see him the better."   


Spot Conlon. Jack knew he was leader of Brooklyn, he'd heard the name plenty of times, but there was something else in the back of his mind. Why was the name so familiar? "I gotta go to Brooklyn?" Jack said. "I ain't ever been to Brooklyn before."   


"Race can take ya," Crutchie supplied. "He goes over there all the time to sell. He can take ya tomorrow I bet."   


At the mention of Race's name, the memory of Spot came flooding back to Jack. A bad storm, nearly a year ago. Quiet words exchanged between him and Race. He didn't remember much of what Race had said, but he remembered the gentle way Race had talked about his best friend, remembered the way he cut himself off after almost admitting they were more than that. Jack knew it didn't matter that he had this memory. It wouldn't do anything in Jack's favor. But the knowledge of what Spot meant to Race would make talking to him easier.   


"Okay," Jack said, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "I'll talk to Race about goin' over there tomorrow. Do I just tell him I'm leader, or is there somethin' special I have to do or say?"   


Specs put an arm around Romeo and considered. "I don't really know," he admitted. "I was never in charge officially, so I've never really talked to Spot. I guess just tell him that we elected you an' what you plan on doin' as leader. He'll probably accept it an' that'll be that. Just talk to him. He's around the same age as you I think; he ain't some big scary adult. He's just a kid. It's just polite to let him know that you're in charge of us. It ain't a big thing. Don't stress yourself out about it, yeah?"   


Jack nodded. "Yeah. I just wanna know what he expects from me. I can do it."   


Specs smiled at him. "That's the spirit! So just go over there an' talk to him. It'll all be good."   


"I'll go talk to Race now," Jack decided. He stood up. "Crutchie, you wanna come with me?"   


Crutchie pushed himself up. "Yeah, I'd like to come. You think he's in the kitchen now?"   


"Probably," Jack said. He headed out the door with Crutchie following close behind. Once out of the narrow doorway, Crutchie walked next to Jack. They talked while they looked for Race.   


"So tell me the name of this place again, Jack," Crutchie said. "I forgot."   


Jack grinned. "It's called Santa Fe," he said with a smile. “It’s a small town out west.”

“How’d you find out about it?”

“When I was out sellin’ a couple days ago I found a paper on the ground,” Jack recalled. “It had color on it, so I picked it up. It was a little brochure advertisin’ some place called Santa Fe. The picture on the front is real pretty, lots of mountains an’ a nice sunset an’ all. So I took it, an’ I looked through it when we got back here. It’s a real nice soundin’ place, Crutchie. I bet it’d be cool to live there someday.”

Crutchie poked his head into the kitchen. “He’s in here,” he said to Jack. “We should talk more later. I wanna hear more about this Santa Fe of yours. But now you’ve gotta be a leader an’ talk to Race.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I do wanna talk to ya more if ya want to hear it.”

Jack and Crutchie walked into the kitchen. Crutchie hung back near the door while Jack moved over to stand next to Race.

“Hey, Race?” Jack said.

Race turned to Jack with an entire roll stuffed in his mouth. “Yeah?” he tried to say.

Jack stifled a laugh. “Can you do me a favor?”   


Race held up a finger while he chewed and swallowed. “‘Sup, Jack? Whaddya need?”

“Can you take me to see Spot tomorrow?” Jack asked.

Race went a little pale. “Why?”

“Well, he’s leader of Brooklyn, right? An’ since I’m now leader of Manhattan I should let him know,” Jack explained.

Race nodded. “That sounds good, but why do ya need me?”

“I’ve never been to Brooklyn,” Jack said. “I don’t know how to get there, or where their lodging house is. Since you sell there an’ you’re friends with Spot, I figured you’d be able to help me get there. Are ya willin’?”   


“Yeah, I can take ya,” Race said. “You’ll have to come with me in the mornin’ to sell there, though. I ain’t makin’ a trip back to get you after I finish.”

“That’s fair,” Jack agreed. “I’ll come with ya instead of sellin’ here.” He looked over to Crutchie. “Sorry, Crutchie, but it looks like you’ll be sellin’ without me tomorrow.”

Crutchie smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Jack. I’ll survive one day without ya, even if it ain’t as enjoyable.”

Jack felt his cheeks get hot. “Hey,” he said lightly. “I ain’t that great. You’ll still have fun without me.”

Race looked between the two with a smirk. “So we’re all set, then?” he asked Jack. Jack nodded, glancing at Race for just a moment before looking back at Crutchie. “Find me after you buy your papes tomorrow mornin’, then. I’m headin’ off to bed now, so I’ll see you two in the mornin’. Night, guys.”   


“Night,” Jack and Crutchie said in unison. Once Race was out of the room, Crutchie moved and went to sit down next to Jack.

“Hungry?” Jack asked. He forced himself to look away from Crutchie. He hadn’t realized he was staring.

“Yeah,” Crutchie replied. “What should we have?”

Jack got up and looked in the fridge. “There’s some soup left from last night,” he said. “That sound good?”   


“Sounds great,” Crutchie said with a smile.

Jack sat back down, setting a bowl of soup in front of Crutchie and one in front of himself. He picked his spoon up and took a bite.

“So,” Crutchie said, leaning against the table. “Tell me more about Santa Fe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shows up 4 months late with starbucks* hEY kids i'm sorry uhhh depression kicked my ass hardcore and I lost all my inspiration for this story  
> so I'm not gonna have the same schedule I did before of one chapter a week posted on sunday. I don't wanna commit to anything like that cause idk how often I'll be in the mood to write this but I'm having a lot of fun writing it again! so chapters will come when they do, not on a strict schedule  
> SO what did ya think??? did you like the Gay Pining cause I loved it  
> ((guess what next chapter is)) ((hint it's a bonus))  
> comments!!! kudos!!!! please!!!! i adore hearing what you think it gives me that sweet sweet Validation and i've literally made a friend from him commenting on this fic (sup henry) so talk to me!!!


	9. Bonus - Blush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quite literally 1.8k of the best stuff I've ever written. happy new year everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exactly 6 months ago today, someone commented on this fic and asked for my tumblr so we could talk about it more. now we text every day, facetime when we're free, and send letters to each other in the mail. he's one of the best friends I've ever had, so on this special day I'm dedicating this chapter to theatergay (check out his fic it's great)  
> blush invented love

"Was the bang comment really necessary?" Mush muttered as Blink dragged him up the steps of the lodging house.

Blink laughed. "Don't act like that wasn't both hilarious and incredibly appealing."

"It wasn't. It literally made me want to die. Plus I think you permanently scarred Jack."

"Don't you mean I permanently scARRed Jack?" Blink asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Mush collapsed onto his bed. "You're impossible. I don't even know why I like you."

Blink sat down next to Mush and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He turned Mush's face toward his and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Cause I do that, maybe."

Mush snaked his arms around Blink's waist and pulled him so their chests were touching and they could feel each other's heartbeats, slow and steady. He pecked Blink on the nose quickly and whispered, "You have a point."

Blink laughed. "Great sense of humor, really hot,  _ and _ I'm smart, too!" He punctuated each point with a kiss. "Sounds like you've got yourself a real catch, eh Mushy?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Blink," Mush breathed out. He closed his eyes and crashed their lips together, sighing as Blink kissed back.

Blink wanted to try something, he decided while his tongue explored Mush’s mouth. He didn’t know if it would work, but he knew Mush would be absolutely gone if it did. Without pulling away, Blink moved to straddle Mush and guided him by his shoulders so he was lying down on the bed.

“Blink?” Mush asked, slightly breathless. “What are ya-?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Blink whispered against Mush’s lips. Mush nodded and nipped at Blink’s lower lip. “Then relax, Mushy. I know what I’m doin’.”

Blink finally pulled away from Mush, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down on either side of his head. He tapped them lightly to indicate he wanted Mush to keep them there, then moved his attention to Mush’s face. He took Mush’s chin and tilted it to the side. He pushed Mush’s hair out of the way and brushed his thumb across Mush’s defined cheekbone. Blink ran his cold fingertips over Mush’s forehead and temples, pausing for just a moment to make sure he knew where the right place was. He slid his hand back down to Mush’s cheek and stroked it softly.

Mush closed his eyes in anticipation of what he thought Blink was going to do. He knew it wouldn’t hurt; he trusted that Blink knew how to make him feel good. He felt the warmth of Blink’s soft hand leave his face, and waited for the hit.

Instead of the sharp slap he was expecting, Mush felt warm lips touch his temple in a gentle kiss. He opened his eyes in confusion. He only saw Blink’s jawline, sharp and pale in the shadow cast by the bunk above them. Blink kept his lips there, adding a little bit of pressure. He ran a hand slowly through Mush’s hair and gave it a gentle tug.

Blink pressed his lips down on Mush’s temple until he felt a pulse, slow and steady. He heard Mush sigh softly when his hair was pulled and he grinned, lips turning upwards against Mush’s warm temple. He counted the number of beats, counting 76 in a minute. Normal - not too fast, not too slow. Mush’s heart rate was usually around 76. He played with Mush’s hair and touched his face, brushing his fingers across Mush’s jaw and cheek and his closed eyelids.

He pulled away finally. Mush opened his eyes, finding Blink’s loving gaze immediately. He reached up and touched Blink’s face.

“Can I kiss ya?” Mush asked. Blink leaned down and put a hand at the back of Mush’s neck, tilting his head up and capturing his lips in a soft kiss. He pulled lightly at Mush’s lower lip, eliciting a quiet, breathy noise from the beautiful boy underneath him.

Blink would have loved to just stay like that, just to kiss Mush forever, but he had a plan that he had to execute. So he pulled away, moving his attention to Mush’s right hand. He kissed it slowly, letting his lips linger, pressed to each fingertip, before kissing the back of the hand. He glanced up at Mush, meeting his eyes without taking his lips off of Mush’s hand. He smiled a little and pulled away.

He looked back down at Mush’s hand, focusing on it. He turned it over slowly so he was looking at his palm. He pushed Mush’s sleeve up, just enough to see his wrist. The skin was paler there, untouched by the sun’s harsh rays. Blink’s lips pursed slightly as he tried to remember exactly where the pulse point was. He brushed his fingers over the smooth skin of Mush’s wrist to orient himself. Once he was confident he knew where he was aiming, Blink lifted his fingers and let his lips settle in their place. He kept a delicate hold on Mush’s hand, keeping his arm steady. He added bit of pressure to his kiss, only as much as he needed to in order to feel Mush’s pulse beating. He measured again, this time counting 82 strong beats. He grinned; it was still a constant rhythm, but it had sped up, and Blink was willing to bet he was the reason. Mush reached his left hand out to tangle in Blink’s hair, the fingers of his dominant hand moving deftly through the soft blond hair.

Blink pulled away again, taking Mush’s right hand in both of his own. Mush tugged him back up by his hair, clearly asking for another kiss. Blink smiled and brushed his thumb across Mush’s cheek. He leaned forward slowly, keeping his eyes open so he could watch Mush’s close. Once they were completely closed, Blink ducked down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss directly on Mush’s carotid artery.

Mush moaned, not expecting the hot kiss on his neck. The hand in Blink’s hair curled into a fist and his eyes shot open. Blink smiled against mush’s neck and let his teeth graze the warm skin as he closed his mouth. Mush shivered and gasped at the feeling of teeth on his neck. Blink added pressure to the kiss and took Mush’s pulse again. 95 - it was definitely faster now, and slightly irregular. Mush’s breath sped up as well, making it clear to Blink that he was having an effect on Mush.

Blink opened his mouth again, keeping his lips firmly planted on Mush’s neck, and teased the skin between his teeth, biting just hard enough to bruise the skin and leave a mark. Mush tugged on his hair again and gasped Blink’s name out. Blink pulled back and looked at Mush; his eyes were wide and dark and his cheeks were flushed. Blink smirked and stroked his face, anticipating Mush’s reaction to what was next.

He dragged his hands down Mush’s torso slowly, letting them settle on the waistband of Mush’s pants. He dipped his fingers underneath and untucked the hem of Mush’s shirt. He ran his cold fingers along the strip of skin there, making Mush shudder. Blink went to the button and undid it slowly.

“Blink?” Mush asked. He touched Blink’s face, making him pause with his fingers hovering over the zipper. “Are ya- What are ya doin’?”

Blink took Mush’s hand and kissed it reassuringly. “Relax, silly. I told ya, I know what I’m doin’. We ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want to, promise. Just trust me.”

Blink waited for Mush to nod before pulling on the zipper and working the pants down Mush’s hips. He pushed Mush’s underwear back slightly, just barely enough to expose his next target. The femoral, nestled halfway down the V where his thigh met his hip. He held Mush’s leg by the back of his knee, feeling the pulse there as he leaned down. He kissed Mush gently just above his knee and then picked his lips up and pressed them back down, a tiny bit above where they’d just been. As Blink kissed his way up Mush’s thigh, he felt Mush’s pulse increasing behind his knee. He refrained from measuring it, wanting to wait until his lips reached their destination before knowing how quickly Mush’s heart was beating.

As he neared Mush’s pulse point, Blink let his lips linger for longer and longer, each kiss agonizingly slow and open-mouthed. After what seemed like an eternity, Blink’s mouth finally hit its target, but instead of pressing a kiss there he bit down and started sucking a mark. Mush whimpered and squirmed at the sensation. Blink pulled back and inspected the hickey in the dim light. He nodded, satisfied with his work, and leaned back down, this time letting his lips settle on the new mark. With the hand that wasn’t holding Mush’s knee Blink took hold of his hip and held him there. He pushed his lips down and started counting the beats. Mush’s pulse was racing now; it beat 112 times that Blink counted.

Blink smiled and pulled away, leaving one more kiss there before moving back up to Mush’s lips. Mush kissed back desperately, holding fast to Blink’s shoulders while Blink gripped his hips. He traced the edges of Blink’s lips with his tongue before parting them and working his way inside Blink’s mouth. Blink allowed his tongue to explore while he kissed back and rubbed circles on Mush’s hips.

Blink let Mush kiss him how he wanted to, knowing he had a lot of energy to let out. He gasped when Mush nipped at his lower lip and inhaled sharply when Mush started kissing down his neck to leave a hickey right below his collarbone, just barely hidden by his shirt. Mush returned to Blink’s lips and kissed him again, more gentle this time. Blink smiled into the kiss and moved his hands from Mush’s hips to his waist.

The kisses slowed down and got increasingly soft as the adrenaline from earlier faded and mutual adoration became what fueled them. They turned slow and lazy and giddy as the two basked in their happiness.

“I love you, Mush,” Blink said when Mush eventually stopped kissing him. “I love you so much.”

He unbuttoned Mush’s shirt, exposing his bare chest. He guided Mush by his shoulders so he was lying down, then got down next to him. Blink pressed a tender kiss to the left side, right on top of Mush’s heart. He turned his head and rested it there, listening to the now slow and steady beats. He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

“I love you too, Blink,” Mush whispered, running a hand through Blink’s hair. “With my whole heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I'm honestly so shook about this I know I'm the one that wrote it but holy shit it's the best thing I've ever written  
> -p u l s e p o i n t s  
> -please leave me comments I'd love to know what you think  
> -I'm also posting this separately because I can do that and this deserves to be standalone so I mean check it out if you want  
> -have a nice day everyone thanks for putting up with my wholly irregular updates  
> -next chapter is plot again so! look forward to that when I get around to writing it


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